
■ ■ 




> C i f 1 


riitF 


rOiBl‘ii ■ i 

i ‘ ■' '■•' : 'dUliftfc. 


> 


m 


Igjjlm? 

|{ iiliuiMHj: ; ^‘#E2M 

. I J 111? I 1 - . •» r T'V *>C **S« la£iLt I . 


! > V 


ws* 


< » 




IT :- X/NV* 

;;& "■ Mi 1111 


: 


; i 







iiliu 










i f-. • , (A | (KMM IV ■ / . f i ' M 

WfSW §fljjjj "' ■*] 

Mf-IwU ff il *•». i 



A' 


i 


Jif f i , 4 ?ilff 


<Ur i 






■ ■■ • ^ 

• 



!i 


• U > 5 1 ? II ! • 

: KiitjM' 

f V l.*v - 

I t f % i 


. i ; t 2 t v ^ 

' s t i s * ^ 2 fl ' 

l if T 5 t i 1# li B r C 




r Jr t| v s i 



*, > c i s 


111 ‘ , • .- 

Hif || ir 

* filrliltr 

t 5 j ' > c! ^ .. 


i t M ’ 
11H < 

v!ti»i I ni*v 

'* If 1 i r;>.. 1 y 
t ** f ^ r *i T* i 

•iM Hi 

;. |t V11 

If, i . j * ? s »;■•. *i - 

Al 

1»t|) 

mm 



lit HHIHhIiI 



H rU i ; i ,: ; 


I L F 1 . 1 • U * i 


; WKI f 

VtH 
f ■ Hj 

‘« i j T i J; Vi 1 ^ 


r J *’ i 5 f f in 

l^llfilllr pH 

*P« 


[9{|^|4kv 


; ( J• v fi|||| 

lJ ''•iJisJtHSrf 






f-’ N V i \ 






'l ':'W’-V V< 


t t 






„ f 







sSh 


( r Ul 

; |KI 


»Kj{ 


'I • 


HHHNfc 






wli 

kll &tefe4P 


iflii WBB Kteftfoii" 

[ | ||r|’ 



• •;■ !• .11 



; j : rr^. 


,’Mw? 


i-f-k 




l-ll'pj; s*;itul ft Jjjjtt!JfFitffMftlBfc&tfra : ft•’!■•.;iafw - i. • >&>,?; 5 } * li* Ml< r : itU Uf ’'»• 

I 
























































































































































































































































+ o A ' D - \j . < s a 6 


- . V' 4 -V % 

A 'o // ~ v ' s ’ ,(A ^ Y o * K * ,4 O, , S 

4 - 4 * ,'-^V w :£lfihr+ 4 , v* 

o 


,0 o 



A - 

> Ci- ^ 

'-6, *,:■.' s # **. % 

■“«,% "' vV''V'/, A 





n aO*' "C? * 

0 K 0 V *i *®, ^ 

4^ *■ rx^J^ *£* 

* v ^ ,# 


V S » « > 

V' ,. s A-A'/ 


^ ^4x4 4 



4 At ■-. 
li » « , 4 * » l» ° ’ -X 



s > 



'/ > 






* 0<! k 


* <i> c 4 


4 



A ,A’ 

xP <V 



'/ > 


% *v ; 


0 V K 





'L Z - ’ N 

4^ *%> * 

>*v* A A '* ., * s s .0 <* 

J> C°* G « A> r 0^« vl B « A 

~ J* * . 0 *Mau^ , ^ ,v 

^ y ° a a 4 R •; *b 0 X * £m^A - ^ 4 

4 -/* * ”\V7 _ * VJ <_> @s 

> ( -q> v- c \ <<■ *■ wyzm 

TV/JZ-fW- • X A ■*£* S % J YvA^ X ^ A, <—.'///!']. 

CL ^ ^P£Af ^ s a> ^ ^ A <~> • 

-0 %'••’* V> v v s* *; 4 % * * K 0 >xV 

^^ ■«■ * %/ ». \ * 

^ ^ 05 $$X4?W//J7 ^ «V 




V V S 

%'’ r tr. > * 

v/A c ^ ,A « 



■* A A' u 
\ ^ v * 



*> <4* i> 

*i • 


,v <p. 


■>> ^ 



..0 s " -•“.•• ,v ■’ ■ • ’/,.•; • .,v "••</;••••• 

7 '■ ^ ^" v ' U 




.v - 

/» ■< v- v c * 

» <= \° o* 

ct- 

c- ^ 

a g ® •>' ^-s ■/ n. 0 ' ^n-“ . ^ 

s T * ' A ^^ u °t o 

S - A O 



^ <y v 

* o 0 X 


^ \v^ ^ ^ 

\ <L> As / 

• ,1 * v> S \^*'.%*' JN0 


^ ‘V j t; p. H). 

.a ' , o 

^ ** c 0^ 

; 

* ^z/ym \^ ^ <; - 

^ v 3.' C^v v 

C c > a , 1 * <. Y>' 

^ 8! ,y ,s**/. ^ 

' * 0 / CV V • v V*>w ^ 

^ . % Ar. A,. 



il- ^ 

, / % • l 



A ^ 
v v 


aV <p. 
* 4V 



cP 



^ -a\ -*■ 

M •" V? a Xx'S^ilkfb ^ ■>> V 

^ » y * <, ^ a\ 

s « \° °* ' : a ^ 

. „ .'„o 0 ,4 < ^ ' 

e- 'n.y , \ *■«,-• 4 ' s ,„;*< 

-° 4* % V.O_,w'J 

^ e %» * <kk& r * ■■*■ * *&**» 


aV ^ 

* 4^ ^ * 

v.., ^ t, ‘VA«A‘ 


m * ^ ^ 3 


» <r s 


/ A A>, ° % 

x . 4 N * v 


_ y- 


(A 


■N 


V I 8 


0 i> A 











































o 1/ 
tv 




A 




<\ y 0 * X * *A 




c i* s 

O '* 



#> -< \A V 


*\ V C ° N C « \ ' ** 0 Q^V' 1 * * ^ c 0 ^ r ^ b 

A 4 ^\ v / <y c> ^\,-/r?^''’ * A ■> c-^v A A 

\ *. rS^OvAxTV^fc ^ N (er-ri(/A'? + -\ , _<rW?\ . w 

- -fu. v» « 





%/ Ay* A,, "v * . 7 .'" y j ,* 

V % v s ** ^ > ,0^ ' \> s s * 

V . A V r .<? s> * ^ v 

«ra * ^ A * ^r/k. ^ <y av *■ ^ 


<v» 

ir> A 


C, />> 7 

,v ^ ° 

* oV * 

O , s 

TV a ^ v I 



y ^ 


* AX> </> 


y 0 " x c ° N c * °^b " * * s ' o^ * 
i *P 4 i*& * ^ \s> r° s 

rnvsAy 

y^Xn . Oi ^ 





\ » 

. 1 ^ z X 

.V> O 1/7 

Vi -y 't ' $ 




^ -y o \0o 

^.' o % 

v^'”^ *’-> ,’*•/% *••’*' '* 



> >y ■%. ' 

' /, f ,v- 

vr * 

s\V * & 

'A. ,A * rfCCs? 




■« '*o » M 

■Sr JV {i 0 

5* * *f> , ^ 

i'-. ■'' ^ ... „ ;: . . . 


C? 


° N ° " ^ 0 \ Y - 0 ^ * 8 « '*\\^ S * 

A'^' , ^ Y y C A - 

o cy ^ fAyft'Ai -^v \V ^ 

O. A _ iA\yvA ° A y v t 

1///L / v 







e=? - ^ O <^// »« \\V‘ . -* xy3 . ^ c t» <<. C 

0 v ,i'», ,0,x *y A c» n c «%. / '“ , '\o^' v * 1 '** y," 0 * 

a T> '- ' v - ^ • (I ■ ** ••*■*■ *^» ^ \\>/s/sAs- *yi 

^' A 




0 c 


. ^ 

r^ y “ ix O 

s ,., y *o„<»’y 


-< 

X> 

O 

^ ,0° ^o # „ , i * " A' 

.0^ »'*»,'% " y - - * 

-^f :M; yy 

lV ^ : ;./ % y ; A : ^ A k 

•*'''/.'■*,<*. y *“V' c«r» % V"’ 

<-VJ Y ^ J ^p ■ O * <~$yt\ ^ ^ 

a >^> ir ~~ ^ ^ a^/f/7^,■> ? x A' ^ ^ 

■r ,jj^ y ~- / #vf/i«yyy 7 . . r r‘/ V * 

-^ 0 \ azm&c ns -. 


* 

r\ O X/ / 

./ ^°r^yo 



A* 


V 


x°^> 


sO 




o*' 'o. ^ g 

* * * 0 / A 



4 w* * 

4 y - 

,,.' / 'k-^y o^yo 

V\. S Lrw ^ ^ A 0 V ***<>/■ 'O 


H 


y* 




^ -i 


y 0 * X ^ A 


A ^ 

C>" A 





" ■V 

'y^T^T'' -0^ < y »* 

n c . *7' 7 * * s il«, V. 












































































































































, 





















THE MAN 

FROM SMILING PASS 

or: The Honorable Abe Blount 


ELIOT H. ROBINSON 

Author of “Smiles” and “Smiling Pass” 


With an illustration in color by 

H. WESTON TAYLOR 1 



L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 

(incorporated) 

BOSTON MDCCCCXXIV 



Copyright , 1924., by 
L. C. Page & Company 
(incorporated) 

Copyright in Great Britain, the British Dominions 
and Possessions 


All rights reserved 


Made in U. S. A. 


First Impression, August, 1924 


SEP I 9. 'I 



PRINTED BY QUINN & BODEN COMPANY 
RAHWAY, N. J. 






FOREWORD 


The scene of this latter-day political and historical 
romance is laid in one of the five states which join 
in forming the Southern Highlands, and the manners, 
customs, and laws — especially those having to do with 
elections — are based on fact. For obvious reasons, 
however, I have preferred to create the “State of 
Cumberland,” rather than to name any one of those 
five states. 

The State’s Attorney in the story is an official who, 
in most localities, would have the title of District At¬ 
torney. 

I wish to make grateful acknowledgment for assist¬ 
ance given me, perhaps unwittingly, by many high 
public officials, especially by certain Senators and 
Congressmen who have furnished me with material of 
a political nature and with apropos stories which they 
may recognize in these pages, should they ever chance 
to read them. 


Eliot Harlow Robinson. 


“Every man is a politician, whether he will or 
no, for government does not rest upon the opinions 
of men, bud upon their actions” 

Calvin Coolidge. 


CONTENTS 


PART THE FIRST 

ONE DAY 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Demon Destroyer . 3 

II. Of Feet, Flesh and Clay . . . . 16 

III. A Narrative. 25 

IV. Which Is Continued . . . . 36 

V. Surprises..47 

VI. More Unexpected Guests .... 60 

VII. Politics and Platforms.71 

VIII. The Broadening Horizon . . . . 85 

IX. First Reactions.92 

X. The Legion of the Cheerful . . . 107 

XI. The Shadow.118 

XII. Night.135 

PART THE SECOND 

ONE YEAR 

I. Interlude . 149 

II. Bombshells.162 

III. The Gauge of Battle.177 

IV. The Crest of the Wave . . . .191 

V. The Decision.202 

vii 














Vlll 


CONTENTS 


PART THE THIRD 

THE CAMPAIGN—AND AFTERWARDS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Come, Let Us Reason Together . . . 215 

II. The Pot Bubbles.231 

III. Additional Fuel. 246 

IV. The Pot Boils. 259 

V. The Pot Boils Over.272 

VI. The Primary Election.286 

VII. Destiny. 305 

VIII. Fulfillment . . . . . . .320 

IX. Washington Glimpses.333 

X. The Home-coming.344 








PART THE FIRST 
ONE DAY 

IN WHICH CERTAIN CHARACTERS AND CAUSES 
ARE INTRODUCED 




















THE MAN FROM 
SMILING PASS 


CHAPTER I 

THE DEMON DESTROYER 


“ Abe.” 

“ Uh-huh.” 

“ Desty Fugate’s sort uv an uncle uv yourn, hain’t 
he? ” 

“ Reckon so.” 

The answer, laconic but not directly affirmative, 
since the Cumberland mountaineer rarely says “ Yes,” 
came through the darkness in a deep, deliberate voice, 
and after a pronounced pause. The speaker stopped, 
struck a match, and held it to the bowl of his pipe, his 
cupped hands so shielding the flame that it illuminated 
merely his face, but that — limned for an instant 
against the blue-black background — appeared like a 
cameo carved by a humorously inclined artist. 

His three companions, who “ used ” tobacco, moun¬ 
tain-fashion, but did not smoke, likewise paused and 
instinctively glanced at the countenance thus disclosed. 
Although as familiar to them as their own, it was one 
which invariably attracted attention, and the ques¬ 
tioner caught himself thinking, with a feeling of mild 
surprise at the thought, “ Abe shore air plain-lookin’; 
hain’t hit a fact? Gawd A’mighty hewed him rough 
. . . and aout uv tough timber. He’s maounting oak. 
You kain’t bend him and he’ll take a paowerful lot uv 
breakin’.” 


3 


4 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Any student of physiognomy would have approved 
this crude analysis, after even so brief a study of the 
subject as the match’s short-lived, wavering flame per¬ 
mitted. And he would have found the countenance 
more than merely strong and “ plain-lookin’.” It was 
as unusual as it was strikingly homely. 

Under a stained and shapeless slouch hat appeared 
a fringe of thick, wiry hair, a lusterless black; the 
eyebrows were the same, and jutted out, like bushes 
rooted in the crevices of a granite ledge, over eyes 
which were iron-gray, deep-set, large and commanding 
— the type which can become, at will, wholly inscruta¬ 
ble, and yet, at other times, mirror every inward emo¬ 
tion, from blazing wrath to the gentleness of a woman. 
The nose was large, crooked like an Indian’s and 
almost ludicrously long — although this fact was in 
part discounted by the unusual length of the whole 
face, and especially that of the rugged, deeply-cleft 
chin. The flesh was tightly drawn over the bones, and 
cheeks and forehead bore strongly chiseled furrows: 
the face was toned by wind and weather to a russet- 
brown, somewhat blemished. Except for the eyes, the 
mouth was its redeeming feature. Too large for sym¬ 
metrical beauty, it was nevertheless indicative of 
strength, kindliness and a keen sense of humor. Who 
was it who wrote, “ God gives us our eyes, but we 
make our own mouths? ” The man had made his 
attractive, but as an underlying heritage it had a sug¬ 
gestion of the pathos common to the lives of the South¬ 
ern hill-dweller. The face, moreover, held an anomaly. 
Taken as a whole, it might easily have passed for that 
of a man of middle-age, and one who had borne sor¬ 
rows. But the eyes were unquestionably still the eyes 
of Youth, and fired alike with purpose and enthusiasm. 

The flame died away. The man ground out the last 



THE DEMON DESTROYER 


5 


glowing spark beneath a heavy heel and again strode 
forward into the darkness. 

“ I don’t guess he’s a-goin’ tew be partic’ly glad tew 
see you to-night, Abe,” resumed the first speaker, with 
a chuckle. “ No, I don’t reckon he’ll ask any uv us 
tew drap in and set awhile, whatever.” 

All, save the one whom they addressed as “Abe,” 
laughed dryly, and another voice added, “ Shouldn’t 
think you-all’d love tew cut up your own uncle’s still.” 

“I don’t, much. But . . Pause. “Hit’s got 
tew be done.” 

“ I reckon. But what air you so all-fired sot agin 
makin’ corn licker for, Abe. I recollect thet you used 
tew drink hit good’s the best uv ’em, afore you got tew 
be sheriff, Abe.” 

Again there was a moment of silence, broken only 
by the occasional snapping of twigs beneath the feet of 
the sheriff and his three deputies, the rustle of branches 
thrust aside by their sturdy bodies and now and again 
a sound from sleeping nature about them. Finally the 
answer came, “ Hain’t agin the use uv hit, per se . . . 
‘ as such,’ I mean, although I’ve always been agin the 
abuse uv hit. But naow the Law’s agin makin’ hit, and 
as sheriff fer this hyar Caounty / am the law, for the 
time bein’.” 

He spoke simply — there was nothing of Louis’, 
“ L’Etat, c’est moi,” about his statement — and it 
brought the equally simple agreement, “ Which air a 
fact.” 

“ While the law’s as hit air, and I’m an officer 
charged with enforcin’ hit, I a-gwV tew enforce hit. 
That’s all.” 

It seemed to be conclusive, and for a time the quartet 
of almost invisible forms trudged stolidly onward and 



6 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


upward, ever upward, in silence, walking a tortuous 
trail which any one of them could tread almost as easily 
in the dark as at noonday. But the questioner was by 
nature loquacious and he soon began again. 

u Think that the people aout in the £/-nited States 
of Ameriky’ll ever change hit again, Abe? The law, I 
mean? ” 

The reply was brief and characteristic of the man. 

“ Don’t know. Hain’t consarned with that question, 
naow. We-all hev got a maounting tew climb and a 
job tew dew, than Better be savin’ you breath, Sam.” 

Mother Nature seconded the suggestion, for they 
had now reached a spot where the ascent began to grow 
abruptly precipitous, and, mountain-bred and sinewy 
as the deputies were, they were soon panting audibly 
in their efforts to keep pace with their leader, whose 
long, unaltered stride seemed to devour the ground. 

A full half hour they toiled upward, while the nar¬ 
row, twisting path became rougher and yet more rough 
as it wound between outcropping ledges of granite and 
scarcely discernible trunks of many trees. Almost no 
words were spoken, now. At length they arrived at 
the summit, a goal which had been marked for them by 
a broken line of frosted silver, for the nearly full moon 
was rising, beyond. 

Abe reached it first and stopped abruptly, his tower¬ 
ing form, silhouetted against the diffused light in the 
eastern sky, appearing almost gigantic. The other 
three ranged themselves beside him, likewise pausing, 
as well they might. 

Before and below them lay a small ravine — a broad, 
shallow bowl-like cavity, rather — filled with a jumble 
of rocks of all shapes and sizes, and stunted trees and 
bushes. From each of these the blue-black shadows 
reached towards them, combining and flowing like dark 



THE DEMON DESTROYER 7 


water up the nearer side of the declivity almost to their 
feet. Opposite, perhaps an hundred paces distant, 
showed the further rim of the bowl, treeless, inky black 
save for its outline of broken silver. Beyond, in the 
cloudless night heavens, thick with star-points, shone 
the three-quarter moon, majestically cold and distant, 
the clear, cool light from which illuminated the scene, 
making it beautiful, yet somehow unreal and fantastic 
— awesome. The climbers had known every step of the 
way up through the darkness; but they scarcely recog¬ 
nized the familiar spot upon which they looked, il¬ 
lumined though it was. 

Like most primitive peoples, those who dwell in the 
isolated mountain regions, even of our twentieth cen¬ 
tury America, have something of the savage’s passion¬ 
ate worship of natural beauty, but it is coupled with 
an Anglo-Saxon reticence in expression. The feeling, 
the appreciation, is present, but they lack power and 
desire to express it. So the strange, calm, mystic 
beauty of the scene held all four silently enthralled for 
a moment. 

When, finally, Abe broke the silence, it was not to 
give words to the thoughts which the exotic beauty of 
the scene had stirred within his mind — whatever they 
may have been. He merely stretched out a remarkably 
long arm, indicated the further side of the bowl, and 
drawled, “ Hit’s over thar.” 

Each man gave an upward hitch to his belt, sagging 
a little as a result of the stiff climb, tightened the grip 
of his sinewy hand on the rifle which swung, nicely 
balanced, at his side, and stepped forward. Now they 
began to tread noiselessly, without the necessity of 
command. All of them had been through the same 
process many times and needed no' instruction as to 
procedure. 



8 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


In Indian file they followed their chief across the 
ravine and stealthily up its further side. He crossed 
the ridge and headed straight for a spot marked by 
two huge, up-ended slabs of stone which stood, leaning 
slightly towards each other, almost like man-hewn pi¬ 
lasters at the doorway of some ancient temple ruin, 
so symmetrical they were. The moonlight, flooding 
through, indicated a narrow passage between them, and 
into it the four went, without hesitation. It gave upon 
a moderately sized walled hollow, almost perfectly con¬ 
cealed and naturally protected—one who did not know 
its secret would have hunted long and then not found 
it. 

Built against the opposite wall of rock, and now in 
deep shadow, was a rude structure, scarcely more than 
a lean-to, and ears and eyes alike informed them that 
it was, unfortunately, occupied. A thin line of yellow 
light appeared, outlining the rude door, which sagged 
unevenly on its rusty hinges ; wisps of smoke curled up 
from the rough stone chimney and drew a filmy, waver¬ 
ing veil across the face of the moon; there came the 
sound of men’s voices in speech and boisterous laugh¬ 
ter, and then a snatch of “ Bad Bill ” Cress’s moon¬ 
shine song, sung in a voice more powerful than melodi¬ 
ous. 

“You could e . . . e . . . eas’ly tell, 

By the whiffle uv the smell 
Thar was licker in the air close by.” 

At least two other voices joined in the refrain, 

“ YES, licker in the air close by, 

And thar hain’t many know hit, but a few; 

So pull off your coat and wet up your throat 
With the good old maounting dew.” 




THE DEMON DESTROYER 


9 


The quartet standing outside in the night glanced at 
one another. Three of them grinned broadly, and even 
the stern lips of their leader twitched a little. “ Thar 
hain’t many knows hit, but a few” Unfortunately for 
the singers in their false security the listeners were 
among the “ few.” 

Sam spoke in a whispered aside, “ Hit’s shore a cryin’ 
shame tew hev tew spill aout all the good ‘ corn ’ thet’s 
in thet thar shack.” 

A quick glance from Abe silenced him, and the rest 
were ordered to remain where they stood by a slight 
gesture of the latter’s hand. Alone, the sheriff strode 
forward through the jumble of rocks which covered the 
floor of the hollow; he reached the closed door and 
gave one resounding knock upon it with his heavy fist. 

The singer had already commenced the second verse: 

“ Oh, hyar’s tew the pill thet cures all ill, 

Hit was made from . . .” 

But he broke it abruptly off, and the startling de¬ 
mand was followed by an instant of dead silence within 
the hut. Outside, the only sound was produced by the 
faint rustling of leaves on a near-by scrubby oak, as 
they stirred under the breath of the never-tiring moun¬ 
tain breeze. 

Then a voice, which carried alike a challenge and a 
note of distinct uneasiness, demanded, “ Who . . . 
who’s thar? ” 

“ Hit’s me . . . Abe Blount. I hev come tew cut up 
thet thar still uv yourn, Desty.” The sheriff made the 
response in even, unemotional tones. 

This time the silence which followed was even more 
pregnant, for those on the outside knew — although 
they could hear nothing — that a startled consultation 



10 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


was being held in strained whispers by the moonshiners. 
What would be its outcome? Surrender? Or defiance 
and a fight? Less than a fortnight previous two of a 
similar deputation had been wounded, one of them mor¬ 
tally, while engaged in an attack upon another illicit 
still, only a few miles from that very spot. 

At length Desty’s voice was heard again, this time 
with a distinct whine. “ Naow, Abe. You-all hain’t 
a-goin’ tew go agin your own flesh and blood, air you? ” 

“ Reckon you know I don’t love fer tew dew hit, 
Desty. But I’ve got tew destroy thet still . . . hit’s 
my duty. You’ve been informed against, and I’m 
sheriff, sworn tew execute the law in these hyar maoun- 
tings. Ef you-all’ll come aout peaceable I’ll let you go 
home, on ginin’ me your word tew come tew Court 
when you’re wanted.” 

“ Damned ef we will! ” a younger voice shouted in 
passionate tones. “ Guess us-uns knows who hit war 
thet ‘informed’ agin us, you ...” The rest of the 
sentence is stricken from the record. 

Patiently, without even raising his voice, Abe an¬ 
swered. 

“ You’re wrong . . . and you know hit, Uins. Thar 
hain’t no sense in gittin’ all het up — hit won’t help you 
none. Better come aout, naow ... or we’ll come in.” 

“ So you brung your gang uv sneakin’, stinkin’ pole¬ 
cats with you! I reckoned so.” 

“ Hain’t likely I’d hev come alone, is hit? ” 

There was more whispering, this time faintly audible 
through the closed door as the others drew closer and, 
with growing restlessness, regarded their leader ques- 
tioningly. 

“ I’m aimin’ tew bust in thet thar door in half a min¬ 
ute, Desty,” he announced, quietly. 

“ Try hit and see what you git! ” retorted the 




THE DEMON DESTROYER 


11 


younger voice in belligerent tones. “ We’ve got aour 
guns p’inted plumb at hit, and . . 

“ Time’s up! ” 

Abe methodically rested the butt of his rifle on the 
stony ground, steadied himself, using the barrel as a 
support, raised his foot and drove it against the door 
almost with the force of a battering-ram. Coincident 
with the crash came the vicious crack of a rifle. The 
deputies crowded forward, their own weapons at their 
hips, fingers resting on the triggers. The door had 
flown from its ancient hinges and fallen into the cabin, 
and the light from the fire underneath the still, and 
from two old lanterns, illuminated a strange picture on 
either side of the threshold. Where everything had 
been so peaceful before there was now plenty of action 
. . . but it was arrested action. 

Within the hut stood three sullen-faced men—a gray- 
bearded mountaineer clad in shirt, overalls and rough 
boots, and two of his sons, the younger hardly more 
than a boy — their soiled hands held above their heads. 
Before them, on the dirt floor, lay three rifles, from 
the muzzle of one of which a thin wisp of bluish vapor 
was curling. Facing them, across the threshold, was 
Abe, balancing himself by means of his gun, his foot 
still half in the air, and upon his face an almost ludi¬ 
crous expression of mingled pain and astonishment. 
His companions’ attention was not called to it, however, 
until he moved. Then he turned, abruptly, gave a hop 
which carried him to a bowlder at one side of the faint 
path which led to the door, and seated himself thereon, 
heavily. 

“ You hain’t hit, air you, Abe? ” one of them in¬ 
quired, in a surprised voice. 

“ Why ... I reckon lam! ” their leader answered, 
bending over and grasping his ankle with both hands. 



12 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


The shadow of black anger swept across the coun¬ 
tenances of his three followers, and their new spokes¬ 
man turned back and shot at their captives the wrath¬ 
ful sentence, “ Thet means the ‘ pen ’ fer one uv you — 
or the whole feisty lot, ef we don’t find aout which uv 
you fired thet thar gun. Come naow, speak up. Who 
done hit? ” 

“ Wait a minute, Sam! I’d ruther not know, I 
reckon. Fur’s I’m consarned, hit war jest an acci¬ 
dent. I figure thet one uv ’em, with more hot blood 
in his veins than cold commonsense in his head, hap¬ 
pened tew have his finger on the trigger, and the racket 
I riz, a-kickin’ in the door, startled him intew givin’ 
hit a twitch,” remarked Abe in an ordinary tone of 
voice. Then he addressed his uncle. “ Better be git- 
tin’ erlong home, naow, Desty. Hit’s high time thet 
your boys war in bed, and Aunt Dasie’ll be discom¬ 
modin’ herself abaout you. Leave your guns whar 
they air . . . I’ll see tew hit thet you git ’em back, 
after a while. And I’ll send you word when you’re 
wanted a-fore the Court, daown tew Fayville.” 

Without answering, but with his looks charged with 
bitter words, the moonshiner strode past him, followed 
by his two scowling sons. The elder and his father 
disappeared through the cleft in the rocks, but the 
other, Uins, stopped there, turned, and spat in the di¬ 
rection of the sheriff. 

u I’ll git you fer this, Abe Blount ... I swar I 
will,” he cried shrilly. “ Ef hit hain’t one way hit’ll 
be another. You’re almighty praoud uv bein’ called 
the Caounty’s Demon Still Destroyer and gittin’ your 
name in the city newspapers, I reckon; but you hain’t 
a-goin’ tew be sheriff hyar another term. I knows haow 
we-uns uv these maountings feel . . . this hyar’s a 



THE DEMON DESTROYER 


13 


free country and we hain’t a-goin’ tew stand fer no 
tyrants.” 

One of the deputies gave a short, sarcastic laugh. 
“ Hain’t you the peert boy, Uins! You’d ought tew be 
tellin’ fortunes, erlong with Aunt Lissy Triplett, ’stead 
uv turnin’ your mighty inflect tew the makin’ uv 
moonshine.” 

“ I’m a-tellin’ you,” retorted the youth, his voice 
thick with passion, “ Abe hain’t a-goin’ tew be sheriff 
much longer, nohaow.” 

“ And I’m agreein’ with you, son. Ef you hadn’t 
a been wastin’ your time hid up in these hyar hills, the 
past week, you’d have heerd thet your cousin Abe is a 
candidate fer State’s Attorney fer the Caounty, next 
election. He’s likely tew be prosecutin’ you and your 
paw at the next term uv the court, so you’d better be 
speakin’ pretty, naow.” 

“ Damn him tew Hell! ” The boy swung about and 
plunged into the opening on the trail of his father and 
brother. 

Thus ended the incident — an event commonplace 
enough in the history of those primitive hills, even in 
this so-called enlightened age. But its far-reaching 
consequences were yet to come. 

“ Air you hurted bad? ” inquired the man called 
Sam, turning a look of mingled curiosity and rough 
sympathy on the giant leader’s foot. Through a clean 
hole in the side of the army boot the blood was steadily 
dripping, to form a spreading dark stain on the moonlit 
ground. The other shook his head. “ Hit hain’t 
nothin’ . . . though I don’t guess I’m a-goin’ tew 
make home agin withaout a leetle help, maybe. Might’s 
well git busy cuttin’ up thet still, boys . . . hit’s what 
we come up hyar tew dew.” 




14 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


The three deputies set about their appointed task 
in methodical fashion, and in a few minutes the boiler, 
worm and “ thumpin’-keg ” were smashed and twisted 
beyond all hope of reconstruction; so, too, was the vat 
which had held the corn mash — the “ beer ” they called 
it — and several gallon jugs, while their erstwhile con¬ 
tents, the colorless, potent whiskey distilled to double 
strength, was flowing in little rivulets across the hard 
floor and out through chinks at the base of the rough 
walls. 

“ Thar, thet’s done! ” announced one of them, at 
last. “ Look’s like a claoud-burst had broke loose in 
hyar,” he added, critically surveying the havoc which 
they had wrought. 

The men picked up their rifles, together with those 
left by the departed owners of the now-ruined distillery, 
and Abe pulled himself erect using his own by way of 
a crutch. His wounded foot scraped against the rock 
on which he had been sitting, and a slight gasp of pain 
escaped through his clenched teeth. 

“ Hurtin’ you, air hit? Sho’, thet’s too bad! ” The 
speaker paused; then continued as the result of a sud¬ 
den inspiration, “ Thar hain’t no sense in tryin’ tew go 
back the way we dumb up, when thar’s a real hospital 
daown tew Smilin’ Pass, right at the foot uv the other 
side of this hyar maounting, and hit hain’t more’n a 
mile away, scurce. We-uns kin tote you thet fur ef 
you kain’t make hit a-foot, Abe.” 

“ Reckon I can,” was the answer, and the party set 
forth once more, this time down the steep eastern slope 
of the mountain, now almost as clear as day under the 
illumination of the moon, their leader hobbling along 
with his rifle as a crutch, uncomplaining, but with an 
expression of pain ever-increasing in his eyes. From 
time to time one of the others unobtrusively lent him 



THE DEMON DESTROYER 


15 


a helping hand over a particularly rough spot in the 
steep path, and so at last they came forth from the 
denser woods, and just below them lay the little cluster 
of buildings of “ Smiles’ ” community center — a tiny 
city set on a hill; a candle whose light could not be hid 
and had already penetrated far through the dark re¬ 
cesses of that remote and primitive mountain-side. 
They lay asleep, their roofs now silvery-olive in the 
moonlight, and none within their walls dreamed that 
hobbling through the night — wounded in bringing the 
law into the hills, as some of them had been in bringing 
the light of education there — was one whose star was 
destined to rise high and shine far, far beyond the 
summits of those close-encircling mountaintops. Nor, 
for that matter, did he dream it. 



CHAPTER II 


OF FEET, FLESH AND CLAY 

“ Omie Gayheart, I’d be ashamed! ” exclaimed the 
girl’s brother, Virgil, as he stepped out of the little 
hospital — “ Smiles’ ” House of Health — and joined 
her on the broad, veranda-like boardwalk which con¬ 
nected the House of Happiness, on the right, with the 
House of Hunger, some distance away to the left. For 
at Smiling Pass each building had its appropriate name, 
appearing on neatly lettered signs which were visible 
from the road which followed the many windings of 
the stream from the small town of Fayville up into the 
heart of the primal hills. For a hundred years those 
shallow waters had slunk down the mountain passes 
under the discouraging name of “ Beaten,” but to-day 
they seemed to leap and laugh about the bowlders with 
which their bed was strewn as though visibly rejoicing 
in their new appellation — “ Smiling Creek.” The 
mountain-sides were smiling, too, their youth suddenly 
renewed by the miracle of spring. 

Perhaps it was contagious, and the girl laughed for 
that reason, but her brother evidently ascribed a dif¬ 
ferent cause, for he repeated, “ I’d be ashamed — 
laughing like that at a man who has been shot and is 
suffering.” 

Abruptly serious, she replied: “Yes, I know. I 
suppose that I should be, Virge, but . . . but . . .” 
Laughter, almost hysterical, overcame her for an in¬ 
stant. Finally she went on, her blue eyes still twinkling. 
“ But he’s so awfully funny-looking. Did you ever see 
16 


OF FEET, FLESH AND CLAY 


17 


any one so ... so long drawn aout? I guess I was 
crying while you and Camille were cutting off his boot 
and dressing the wound, but I wanted tew laugh even 
then, and my throat got all achy, trying not tew. I 
never imagined such a foot ... it would make two of 
mine, with some left over, I reckon.” 

Omie thrust forward one of her own trimly shod 
feet — it would have been difficult to believe that for 
fifteen years they had gone bare nine months out of 
every twelve — regarded it whimsically and nodded in 
affirmation of her statement; nodded so vigorously that 
her fluffy, flaxen hair flew like thistledown about her 
merry face. Virgil could not wholly restrain the sym¬ 
pathetic smile which came to his lips, for his love for 
his little sister was almost a passion. For seventeen 
years he had cherished her as few brothers do their 
sisters, and for ten of them he had been father to her 
as well, now overlenient, now strict, but always pro¬ 
tecting and adoring. 

As he looked down at the child-woman his heart 
swelled with silent pride of her, and with a certain self- 
satisfaction in the thought that he had shared in the 
marvel by which the wilderness flower had been trans¬ 
formed into a refined and cultivated bloom which had, 
however, lost none of its native sweetness or simplicity. 
Without what he had helped to bring to pass in those 
hills, Omie might already have become the wife of some 
illiterate mountaineer, a girl-mother, and so on the way 
to join the countless other mountain women who are 
old before their first youth is fully spent. But, with 
his aid, the hand of enlightened civilization had been 
stretched forth to save childhood for her benefit, and, 
although her body had matured and her brain become 
the abiding-place of what their neighbors called “ book- 
lamin' ” and a seriousness of purpose beyond the 



18 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


average, she still retained all of her childlike spon¬ 
taneity and enthusiasm. 

For a woman of the Cumberland mountains Omie 
was really well-educated, now. She was a student in 
the Teachers’ Training Course at the Community Cen¬ 
ter, pledged to devote herself to carrying the torch of 
education among her own people; supervised exercise 
had increased her natural grace, and she wore her city- 
made clothing as though to the manner born. But there 
was a freshness about her face, which had never known 
so much as a speck of powder, a clarity in the depths 
of her violet-blue eyes, that had never grown strained 
and weary with late hours or watching motion pictures, 
which her city sisters would well have envied. 

Many might have frankly envied her her Anglo- 
Saxon loveliness, as well. Some would have declared 
that her laughing upper lip was a shade too short, but 
at least the teeth which her ready smile disclosed were 
perfect and snowy white. They might have said that 
the very tip of her straight little nose proclaimed a 
distant strain of Celtic blood, and had too many 
freckles; but any one would have indeed been carp- 
ingly critical to have found fault with the molding of 
her rose-tjnted cheeks, upon the left one of which the 
shadowy suggestion of a dimple came and went; or of 
her firm, yet rounded, chin; or her eyes, like pools re¬ 
flecting the blue of the sky, generally, yet almost as 
variable as the sky itself, and fringed with long, dark 
lashes whose tips had a fascinating upward curl. No, 
nor of her shimmering hair, golden in the sunlight; 
russet-brown, flecked with gold, in the shadow. 

Surely that is sufficient description for a simple 
mountain maid, but we are seeing her now through the 
eyes of one who loved her. 



OF FEET, FLESH AND CLAY 


19 


Omie looked up, caught the admiration in her broth¬ 
er’s regard and laughed again. 

“ She’s got tew be taken daown a peg,” he thought, 
and answered, unfeelingly, “ I reckon you’re mighty 
praoud of your little feet, ever since Phil Bently told 
you that they were like Cinderella’s; but I’d say that 
a girl needn’t get stuck up over having a small 1 under¬ 
standing.’ ” 

“ Huh. I guess you’ve forgotten that thoroughbreds 
always have smaller hoofs than cart horses, and . . .” 

“ Guess you’ve forgotten that a mule has the smallest 
of the lot, smarty,” broke in her brother, triumphantly. 
“ Anyhaow, it strikes me that Abe was mighty lucky to 
have had big ones. A .45 bullet, mushroomed from 
going through a door, would have just about smashed 
one your size tew smithereens. Naow you’ve got me 
laughing, too, but it’s no joking matter. And tew think 
that it had tew happen just after both Donald and 
Philip had gone home, leaving us without a doctor! 
Of course Camille can take care of it as well as any 
nurse; but I’ve had tew send doawn to Fayville for old 
Doc. Thornsberry tew come up and dig aout the bullet 
. . . and the Lord knows that he’s more butcher than 
surgeon.” 

At this remark Omie suddenly became serious and 
sympathetic again. 

“ Oh, dear, the poor man,” she said, penitently. 
“ Who is he, Virge? ” 

“ Good heavens, don’t you know who he is? Why, 
he’s a celebrity. He’s Abe Blount, the Caounty’s 
Demon Still Destroyer, leading lawyer, sheriff, and — 
most folks say — aour next State’s Attorney! ” 

“ Virgil Gayheart, he never is! ” exclaimed Omie, 
protesting unbelief tinged with a suggestion of awe in 



20 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


her tone. “ You don’t mean tew tell me that he’s Sheriff 
Blount! Why, he can’t be; he doesn’t look a bit like a 
hero! ” 

It would seem that the girl had a very definite con¬ 
ception of how one of those difficult-to-define creatures 
— a hero — should look, even as you and I did, per¬ 
haps, at the age of seventeen, and she could not imme¬ 
diately credit the assertion that a man so ungainly of 
figure and plain of face as he who had come to their 
door at midnight, in trouble and seeking their aid, 
could be likewise one who had made a mark, even 
within their limited locality, for remarkable ability and 
almost romantic bravery. Was not that man made of 
the same common clay as the other mountaineers of 
her acquaintance and exactly like scores of others ex¬ 
cept for the fact that the hand of the potter seemed to 
have been notably careless in his fashioning? 

Smiling a little, her brother demanded, “ And just 
what should a hero look like, Miss Know-it-all? ” 

“ Oh, I ... I don’t know, exactly. But not like 
him, anyhaow. Why, he’s just plain 4 maounting,’ and 
as homely as a ... a hedgehog.” 

“ Maybe so. Just the same, I think he looks a lot 
like the greatest American in history — and one of the 
greatest heroes that ever lived,” responded Virgil, 
promptly and with vigor. 

“ Not . . . you don’t mean Abe Lincoln? ” 

“ Yes, I do,” 

Omie was well acquainted with her brother’s almost 
reverential admiration of the man who had been born 
in a mountain cabin not so very many miles away, and 
as rude as any within those hills; who — led by the 
hand of Destiny which had weighed him and not found 
him wanting — had risen to the most exalted position 
within the gift of his countrymen, to wear at last a 



OF FEET, FLESH AND CLAY 


21 


martyr’s crown for the sake of the reunited nation 
which he had been God’s chosen instrument in pre¬ 
serving. He had told her the story of their own Abe 
Lincoln when she was a small child and had later 
spoken of him, often. Only a short time previous he 
had, with glowing pride, read her part of an article 
written by a famous man in the field of English letters 
who had declared that their Lincoln was the outstand¬ 
ing figure of the Nineteenth Christian Century, class¬ 
ing his name with that of the Christ as one of the few 
truly great ones of human history. On that occasion 
Virgil, strangely moved for him, had gone further, say¬ 
ing that, although Lincoln’s body had returned to the 
dust, his spirit still lived, guiding, inspiring, strength¬ 
ening not only all true Americans, but men of humble 
birth throughout the habitable world. Recalling all 
this, the girl felt that it was almost sacrilege for him 
now to compare their commonplace guest to the dead 
President, even remotely. 

She could not bring herself to express the thought, 
however, and merely answered, “ Well, I don’t think 
so . . . and looks don’t mean anything, anyway.” 
(Oh, Omie! Can you justify that paradoxical declara¬ 
tion in view of what you have just been saying about 
heroes?) “ And I know that he isn’t really a bit like 
him, except what he puts on.” 

“ Puts on? ” echoed her brother, in puzzled tones. 

“ Yes, puts on. I’ve heard that he’s always trying 
tew imitate Lincoln. Nobody who’s really big —in¬ 
wardly, I mean — would be dewing that. I didn’t be¬ 
lieve it before, but I dew, naow.” 

Virgil regarded her in utter astonishment, she spoke so 
vehemently. He knew that she was a creature of strong 
and sudden likes and dislikes, who was likely to carry 
her partisanship to extremes; but, being unable to read 



22 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


her mind, he could not, for the life of him, see any 
reason for her sudden hostility towards their wounded 
guest. He could not know that the girl had listened to 
tales of Abe Blount’s legal ability, physical prowess 
and personal bravery — especially the last — until her 
youthful thoughts had invested him with all the attri¬ 
butes of a mythical hero, one young and handsome, who 
might some day come riding down the mountain pass, 
a Lochinvar, to bear her away with him. And now he 
had come: but, ah, how differently, shot through his 
ungainly foot while kicking in a door! The idol which 
her active imagination had set up, and which she had 
worshiped in secret, had fallen prostrate. Its feet were 
clay. Omie’s tears were very close to the surface — 
tears of chagrin, and of indignation against the man 
who had turned out to be so utterly different from the 
hero of her dreams. All of which was natural enough, 
and more deserving of pity than scornful amusement. 

“ Who says that he does? ” demanded her brother. 

“ Oh, everybody.” Omie was grossly exaggerating 
now; but did not care. 

“ Huh! What ‘ everybody ’ says generally doesn’t 
mean a thing. And it’s not true in this case, either; at 
least, I don’t believe a word of it. 1 never saw him 
trying tew copy anybody. There’s nothing strange 
abaout it if he has som§ of Abe Lincoln’s characteris¬ 
tics, as well as looks — Be comes from a good deal the 
same sort of stock and grew up under the same sort 
of conditions. Besides, supposing he did, what of it? 
I should think that it was a good thing tew have a high 
ideal and try tew live up tew it, even in little things.” 

“ I don’t care,” retorted the girl, stubbornly. “ I 
just hate a copy-cat.” 

“ Well, you’re a good one tew talk, Omie Gay- 



OF FEET, FLESH AND CLAY 


23 


heart! You’re trying tew imitate ‘ Smiles ’ McDonald, 
every minute of the day.” 

“ I’m not! ” she flashed, knowing in her heart of 
hearts that she was not speaking the exact truth. 
“ And, even if I did, it’s not the same thing. He’s a 
man, and ought tew stand on his own feet — they’re 
certainly big enough! ” 

The conversation was back at its starting point. 

“ Well, for heaven’s sake, I should think that he’d 
been dewing it! ” Virgil was now thoroughly exasper¬ 
ated. “ He isn’t thirty-five, yet, and . . .” 

“ Thirty-jive! ” The intonation with which she re¬ 
peated the words indicated, plainly enough, that in her 
estimation a man approaching forty was already hope¬ 
lessly aged. 

“ Oh, shucks. Naow you’re talking foolish . . . but 
it’s what might be expected of a kid. I don’t know 
what’s got intew you, this morning; but, of course, if 
you don’t want me tew talk abaout all the things Abe 
Blount has done, before he was thirty-jive, why ...” 

“ Oh, I’m listening.” 

She spoke with an air of resignation; but, despite 
her perverse behavior she was suddenly — and inex¬ 
plicably — afraid that she had gone too far, and that 
Virgil might change the subject. And she realized that 
she did not want that to happen, yet. Aged and 
homely he might be, and a shattered idol; still his name 
had once been able to inspire romantic imaginings in 
her heart, and her curiosity regarding him was not yet 
satisfied. 

At that moment they were joined by Camille, the 
Belgian orphan whom Fate, capriciously inclined, had 
landed in that isolated part of America’s Southern 
Highlands and wed to Virgil, the mountain man. Now 




24 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


her soft voice, with its odd accent, demanded the cause 
of the heated discussion which had been going on out¬ 
side of her hospital walls, and, when she had been told, 
she begged to hear more about her new patient, whose 
bedside she had just quitted. With her arm about 
Omie’s girlish waist, and her dark hair close to the 
Anglo-Saxon’s golden head, she drew her a few steps 
further away from the House of Health, so that their 
voice might not by any chance reach Abe Blount’s ears; 
then said, quietly, “ Alors, Virgil. Commence! ” 



CHAPTER III 


A NARRATIVE 

It is not improbable that Virgil, aroused by Omie’s 
absurd and, to him, inexplicable assumption of hos¬ 
tility towards their guest, laid himself out to make his 
story of Abe Blount’s life interesting and romantic. He 
actually knew only its barest outlines, and this by hear¬ 
say, but, if he called upon his imagination to fill them 
out and supply the local color, the incidents which he 
recounted were substantially correct, as the girl later 
learned. It is also true that, until Abe had come to 
claim their hospitality, in the middle of the night, his 
interest in his hero had been rather impersonal and 
transitory — a passing appreciation of the achieve¬ 
ments which had made him locally famous. Virgil had 
previously met him only a few times and his acquaint¬ 
ance with him was purely casual. But now a personal, 
protective element had entered into his interest, and it 
had been suddenly intensified by his sister’s contrari¬ 
ness. He felt that he was called upon to justify the 
man and his own judgment of him, and he meant to do 
it, if only for the sake of seeing Omie “ crawl.” And, 
like most Southerners, and men bred amid primitive 
surroundings, Virgil possessed a natural gift for story¬ 
telling. He enjoyed spinning a yarn, and, before his 
narrative was far advanced, he had become so inter¬ 
ested in it, for its own sake, that he had subconsciously 
convinced himself that his protagonist was really the 
hero of a mountain epic in the making. 

He began lightly, however, saying with a smile, “ All 
right. 6 Listen, my children, and you shall hear the 


26 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


story of Abraham Blount’s career ’ . . . and if it isn’t 
interesting it will be the fault of the teller. He was 
born at a very early age, as they say, over where 
Bear’s Mouth Creek runs intew ‘ Beaten,’ as they 
called it then, in just abaout the smallest, meanest 
cabin in these hyar parts. And that means a lot. When 
he was a kid he simply ran wild, like a bear’s cub him¬ 
self, and folks say that, in spite of the size of him, 
naow, he was a little runt, and skinny, too. You see, 
his pappy died before Abe was born, shot in a feud, 
and I don’t guess that he had anything much tew eat 
except ‘ hog and hominy,’ and little enough of that, until 
Preacher Billy got hold of him.” 

“ Ah, le pauvre petit! ” exclaimed Camille, pityingly. 
She knew what it meant for children to be undersized 
from lack of nourishing food, and her heart ached as 
she mentally pictured the fatherless boy. 

“ He attracted Billy’s particular interest one day 
by fighting two of his sons, and licking them, too, al¬ 
though they were both bigger and older than he was, 
for calling him names.” 

“ What names? ” demanded Omie, unthinkingly dis¬ 
closing the interest which she had been trying to con¬ 
ceal. 

“ Oh — what difference does it make? 1 Chicken- 
legs,’ maybe.” 

Virgil abruptly turned his eyes away from his sis¬ 
ter’s inquiring look, and forestalled further questioning 
by hurrying on. 

“ Well, Billy let them finish the scrap, made his boys 
apologize, and then sort of adopted Abe intew the 
family — at least, he was always welcome to crawl in 
with the other children, there, if he wanted tew stay the 
night, and he could always find a square meal there. 
But he was still just as untamed as ever, and came and 



A NARRATIVE 


27 


went abaout as he pleased. By the time he was eight 
or nine years old he was almost a dead shot. Game 
was a lot more plentiful, hyar-abaouts, than it is naow, 
and he’d help himself tew Billy’s big rifle-gun, tote it 
for miles over the maountains, and fire it with the bar¬ 
rel rested across a log or the crotch of a limb. His bag 
was mostly small game like rabbits and ’coons, which 
he’d carry home sometimes tew Billy and more often 
tew his maw, but one day he got a full-grown bear that 
the men had been after for days. I can just see a pic¬ 
ture of that skinny little devil, barefooted, his long 
black hair hanging over his eyes, aiming a rifle a good 
deal longer than himself across a fallen tree-trunk and 
plugging Mister Bruin so’s his mammy could have b’ar 
steak for a week.” 

Virgil’s eyes glowed with self-created excitement, 
and their light was for an instant reflected in his sis¬ 
ter’s. 

“ He was a heap more like Dan’el Boone than Abe 
Lincoln, in those days, and it was then that he got tew 
know every foot of the forests on these hills. 

“ There wasn’t even an apology for a school hyar- 
abaouts, and I reckon that Preacher Billy was the only 
man in these parts who could read at all. He was 
teaching his own kids their ABC’s and wanted tew dew 
the same for Abe, but he preferred tew run wild, al¬ 
though he liked tew steal intew the cabin and lie on his 
belly before the fireplace, evenings, listening tew Billy’s 
Bible stories, especially the more exciting Old Testa¬ 
ment ones. Even then he had a lot of imagination, 
and I’ve heard Billy tell abaout one time when he sud¬ 
denly rolled over, his eyes burning, and said, seriously, 
‘ When I git tew grow up, Billy, I’m a-goin’ tew be 
either like thet thar man uv war, David, or the man uv 
wisdom, Solomon, but I kain’t make up my mind 



28 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


which’ 1 Well, why not be both? ’ Billy asked, laugh¬ 
ing, and the kid jumped tew his feet, ripping aout a 
string of maountain cuss words which would have made 
an army mule-skinner blush, and swore that he would 
be both. You see, he was mighty sensitive tew ridicule, 
and had a red-hot temper in those days, although you 
wouldn’t know it, naow. 

“ Abe got his start on the road tew education and 
fame when he was abaout ten — and at the same time 
the title of 1 The Little Lawyer,’ and it stuck tew him 
until he’d reached the six-foot mark with no signs of 
stopping.” 

“ Haow tall is he, naow? ” asked Omie, irrelevantly. 

“ Oh, six-three or better, I reckon. Don’t interrupt 
or you’ll throw me off my stride. I was telling abaout 
haow he got his start. Well, Preacher Billy sent him, 
mule-back, daown to Fayville one day after some seed 
corn. His own boys were all planting, and Abe volun¬ 
teered tew go since it was fun. It happened tew be 
the first day of the spring session at the Caounty 
Court, and natural curiosity led him with the rest of 
the idlers inside the ugly old brick Court House — you 
remember it, I reckon, Camille.” 

His wife nodded in assent, her eyes suddenly grown 
misty, for the memory of the tragic day when she had 
gone thither, seeking the man whom she loved and 
who stood accused of murder, never failed to bring the 
tears. 

Virgil quietly laid his hand on hers, as it rested on 
the veranda railing, and continued, “ There was a 
shooting case, growing aout of one of the old feuds, on 
trial, and the room was jammed with friends and rela¬ 
tives of both sides. Feelings were running pretty high; 
’most every man had a gun aout in the entry or a re¬ 
volver under his coat, and plenty of threats had been 



A NARRATIVE 


29 


made that, if the jury had the bad judgment tew find the 
defendant guilty of murder, the coroner would have a 
few more jobs. Well, young Abe squirmed his way well 
up front and stood there taking it all in — a comical 
looking little cuss, according to Billy’s tell, for he was 
still barefooted and had on a cast-off pair of his over¬ 
alls which dragged on the floor although the legs were 
turned up as far’s they’d go. And, of course, he never 
wore any hat and his hair stuck aout all ways for Sun¬ 
day, and hung daown over his eyes. 

“ The State’s attorney had already begun his opening 
address tew the jury, telling them what he expected 
tew prove, and, of course, making the murdered man 
aout as a law-abiding citizen of the community, as 
harmless as a dove, who had been shot daown in cold 
blood while standing in the doorway of his little peace¬ 
ful cabin, with his happy family araound him. The de¬ 
fendant, he said, had fired at him from ambush, laying 
in wait behind a tree, after calling him aout intew the 
bright moonlight — the easiest sort of a defenseless 
target. 

“ He’d been sailing along smoothly until he reached 
that point, when young Abe broke in, with his high- 
pitched, boyish voice, saying, ‘ Hold on thar a minute, 
stranger. I reckon you’re a-goin’ tew have a moughty 
hard time proving all thet. First place, hit hain’t no¬ 
wise possible, fer Noey Tittle’s shack sets daown in a 
sort uv a rocky holler under the north side uv a cliff 
whar the moonlight kain’t reach, whatever. Then thar 
hain’t no kivver whar a man could hide, near enough 
fer me tew shoot from — and I’m some shot. And, in 
the third place, hit warn’t Judd Coombs what killed 
him in the first place, fer . . .* 

“ Well, I reckon that everybody was too plumb as¬ 
tonished tew interrupt him before, but just abaout then 



30 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


things began tew happen. Can’t you-all just see it? — 
the old Judge taking his feet off the table and banging 
for silence with his gavel; the jurymen straightening 
up and, for a moment, anyway, forgetting tew spit to¬ 
bacco juice in all directions; the crowd of spectators 
trying tew get a look at the cause of the interruption 
and starting to talk all at once; and Abe standing there, 
the coolest one in the room. You can bet that the 
lawyer for the defense grabbed him in a hurry, and in 
half a minute had enough evidence aout of him to win 
his case, hands daown. It seems that at the time of 
the murder Abe had been up on the mountain, two 
miles away from where it happened, amusing himself 
by secretly watching a man making moonshine and then 
getting dead drunk on it . . . and the man, he swore, 
was Judd Coombs, the defendant. This had been 
Coombs’ own story, although, of course, Abe hadn’t 
known it, and some time later the truth leaked aout. 
Tittle had himself come home drunk, started tew beat 
up his wife, and his own son had shot him, protecting 
his mother. Then the pair of them had got scared and 
cooked up the yam of having seen Coombs making off 
intew the woods, with all the details.” 

“ But,” said Omie, after Camille had exclaimed over 
the incident, “ but I don’t see that Abe did anything, 
himself — it was just luck, his getting tew the Court 
Haouse at just that time, and being the only person who 
could prove that the man was innocent.” 

Virgil shrugged his shoulders — a gesture learned in 
France. “ Luck, if you like — or Fate. But I’d say 
that the kid showed the stuff he was made of by speak¬ 
ing aout withaout being a mite afraid. And he showed 
a logical brain, too — anyway the defendant’s lawyer 
thought so, and he was so tickled that he made it his 
business tew find aout all abaout Abe and insisted on 



A NARRATIVE 


31 


taking charge of his bringing-up. He even offered tew 
adopt him, but the boy wouldn’t give up his mother.” 

“ Who was his mother, Virge? Did she marry one 
of the Blount family that we know? ” 

Virgil looked away again, and moved uneasily. 

“ No,” he said, shortly. “ Never mind. It doesn’t 
make any difference who she was.” 

“ But continue, Virge,” broke in Camille, who was 
already developing the sixth sense by which a wife can 
somehow often tell that her mate is in difficulty and 
needs extricating. 

“ Oh, the deuce. I don’t know why I started tew 
tell you two this yarn, anyway. Don’t you think that 
I’ve got something more important tew dew than stand 
hyar and—” 

“ No. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, and, besides, it’s 
vacation time. We want to hear the rest, don’t we, 
Omie? ” 

The younger girl tossed her head, airily. 

“ I don’t care, one way or the other,” she affirmed, 
with assumed indifference. 

“ Well, I like that! ” Virgil spoke half angrily; but 
his wife laid her hand upon his arm, and he relented en¬ 
tirely when she begged in her appealing way, “ Oh, 
please, Virgil. Moi ... I think it ees all mos’ inter¬ 
esting. And that the Mr. Abe is, too.” 

“ Oh, all right. But I’m not going tew keep on try¬ 
ing tew make a story of it — just give you the aoutline, 
for there are yarns enough abaout his dewings tew fill 
a book. Maybe he’ll tell you some of them, some day, 
but I don’t guess so. He’s sort of close-mouthed abaout 
himself. Well, the lawyer — I’ve forgotten his name, 
naow, if I ever heard it — had just come tew Fay- 
ville tew start in practice, and he finally succeeded in 
getting Abe’s mother tew go daown there to keep haouse 



32 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


for him, bringing the boy, of course. At first he had a 
fight on his hands tew get him tew go tew school; but, 
when he once did begin tew get book-learning — you 
know the story of what Uncle Bije Thornsberry said 
when he saw his first railroad train, Omie? ” 

The girl laughed, and Camille exclaimed, “ Oh, I 
don’t know it. Tell me” 

“ You tell her: my tongue’s getting tired,” responded 
Virgil. 

His sister complied. 

“ You know Uncle Bije? Well, up tew last year he 
had never seen a train, and one day his son Amos got 
him tew ride his little old mule daown tew Fayville, tew 
look at one. Sure enough, an engine and string of 
cars were standing on the track, just ready tew start, 
and Amos tried tew explain what was going tew hap¬ 
pen. But Uncle Bije wouldn’t listen — said that 1 them 
thar tremenjous heavy wagons jest couldn’t go, with- 
aout nary a horse or mule tew pull them.’ In a minute 
or two the engine began tew puff and the wheels began 
tew go ’raound. Bije watched it, mouth wide open and 
getting more excited every second as it started 
off daown the track, faster and faster. At last, when 
it was going at what seemed tew him like a terrible 
rate, it went aout of sight around a curve, and he 
grabbed Amos by the arm and yelled , c Gosh A’mighty, 
boy, they hain’t never goin’ tew be able tew stop hit, 
naow! ’ ” 

“ Well, Abe was a good deal like 1 thet thar train,’ ” 
Virgil continued, after they had had their laugh over 
Omie’s mimicry. “ The lawyer couldn’t have stopped 
him, if he had wanted tew; but I reckon he laid the 
right sort of tracks for the boy’s mind tew run on and 
taught him tew appreciate good books. I don’t guess 
there’s a man or woman in the Caounty, including the 



A NARRATIVE 


33 


Settlement School teachers daown at Fayville, who has 
read half what he has, naow. He began tew change in 
other ways, too. For once in his life he began tew 
get enough tew eat and he grew fast, first shooting up 
over six feet, as thin as a beanpole, and then filling aout 
like he is naow. He was always as quick as a cat; 
naow he was as supple as an Indian and strong — well, 
I’ve heard some stories abaout haow far he can jump, 
haow hard he can hit, and his ability tew wrestle, that 
saound like fairy-tales, and yet they say are true. He 
still had a mighty hot temper, and at one time or an¬ 
other he licked every boy in Fayville.” 

“ A bully! ” interposed Omie, tossing her head again. 

“You’d have wanted tew dew the same if — never 
mind. The funny thing was that every one he licked 
ended by being his sworn friend. Let’s see, where was 
I? Oh, yes. After he got started, he went through 
the caounty 4 grade school ’ like a hot knife through 
butter, and, before he’d struck seventeen, he had fin¬ 
ished what passed for a high-school. I shouldn’t won¬ 
der if those six years were the easiest and happiest 
Abe’s ever had in his life, for, when they came tew an 
end, he had tew begin tew fight for himself all over 
again — and he’s been fighting ever since.” 

“Why, what happen’ then? ” inquired Camille. 

“That spring the lawyer died of some contagious 
disease or other,, and Abe’s mother caught it from nurs¬ 
ing him day and night, and died, too.” 

“Oh! ” 

“ Yes, that’s the way things go. Abe’s life was all 
adrift again — every tie had been cut, and he didn’t 
even have any home in Fayville. People offered tew 
help him — give him jobs, but no! He heard the 
mountains calling him, I reckon, and headed for the 
old cabin where he had been born. Of course Preacher 



34 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Billy tried tew befriend him again, and give him some 
comfort aout of — of the Bible, but he didn’t get any¬ 
where just then. Abe wasn’t much more than a boy, 
but he’d begun tew dew some thinking on his own hook. 
He’d been hit hard; his beliefs were adrift, too, and he 
hadn’t faound anything that he could tie up tew. I 
reckon, though, that he got just what he most needed 

— a chance tew think and fight it aout with himself 
close tew nature, for he put in the whole summer just 
roaming through the woods, hunting and fishing just 
enough tew keep his stomach away from his backbone. 
But the thing that was more starved than his body was 
his brain. He was physically free, but his mind was 
beating against the bars. 

“ He had book-hunger — I know the feeling a little, 
but not as he must have had it. He’d caught glimpses 
of the Land of Knowledge, wanted tew see more and 
knew that education was the door aout intew it. 
There’s something abaout being up in the hills that 
makes people i see ’ things, and see ’em clearly, it 
seems tew me. Joan of Arc had her vision on a hill¬ 
side, ‘ Smiles ’ had her’s up here, and it was the same 
with Abe. He knew, somehaow, that he had a big bat¬ 
tle ahead of him, and he decided that he’d got ‘ tew 
arm hisself with the sword and buckler uv knowledge ’ 

— as Billy says. He made up his mind tew go to col¬ 
lege. But haow tew get tew go there was another ques¬ 
tion.” 

Virgil halted his narrative and remarked in an ago¬ 
nized tone, “ And if I don’t ‘ get tew go ’ tew breakfast 
mighty soon this fool yarn won’t ever be finished, be¬ 
cause the story-teller will have starved tew death.” 

Indeed, all three of them had been up since shortly 
after midnight; it being vacation time at Smiling Pass, 



A NARRATIVE 


35 


the morning meal was not on schedule, and all of them 
were beginning to feel faint for the lack of food. 

“ I’m simply famished, too,” cried Omie. “ If 
mother doesn’t . . 

But mother had already appeared in the doorway 
of the House of Hunger, with the big dinner bell in her 
toil-worn hand. 



CHAPTER IV 


. . . WHICH IS CONTINUED 

“ Don’t tell any more ’til I come back/’ commanded 
Camille, as she — always the ministering nurse — 
started back towards the House of Health, carrying a 
laden breakfast tray for her patient; a bowl of oatmeal, 
three fried eggs, a plate of corn bread, black coffee and 
a glass of milk. Apparently she had no fear of fever in 
his case. 

“ You don’t need tew worry. I’ve got something bet¬ 
ter tew dew,” was Virgil’s answer; and, with his spoon 
poised above his bowl of cereal, he paused, nodded at 
his sister, and remarked quietly, “ You ask the blessing, 
Omie.” 

At Smiling Pass no meal was begun until one of the 
pupils, called on by name, had repeated the little verse 
which “ Smiles ” had taught her little Belgian charge in 
the hospital in France, and Camille had in turn brought 
to her new mountain home. To-day the long, plain 
tables were innocent of the usual horde of hungry chil¬ 
dren, and only one small side-table was set for the mem¬ 
bers of the family, so it seemed to Omie that Virgil was 
not altogether disingenuous in calling on her — it sav¬ 
ored a little of discipline. 

She flushed a little rebelliously, but nevertheless 
bowed her sunny head and began at once, “ For all the 
blessings of this day: for food and rest, for work and 
play, we give Thee thanks, O God of Light. Help us 
tew serve aour fellow men — in the name of Christ, 
aour Lord. Amen.” 

“ Abe Blount comes pretty near tew 1 serving his fel- 
36 


. . . WHICH IS CONTINUED 


37 


low men,’ Omie,” remarked her brother, as he dipped 
his spoon into the oatmeal. “ Think it over.” 

When Camille returned to the dining-room she was 
still smiling, and in explanation said, “ Mr. Abe 
Blount ees so funny he made me laugh at heem. I just 
ask’ heem if hees foot hurt veree bad and he said, 4 No, 
the pain ees not sharp but eet ees rather large. I sup¬ 
pose that thees was meant as a lesson for me to queet 
kicking. The nex’ time I have to break in a door I 
shall use my head ... at leas’ figuratively.’ I was 
surprise,’ for he talked like a man from the city — like 
Donald or Pheelip — and las’ night eet was so different 
you know.” 

Omie’s eyes opened wider, and she was about to 
speak when Camille continued, “ And then he ask’ eef 
I had effer heard the story of how the negroes came to 
have such beeg, flat feet, and when I told heem 4 no,’ 
he said, ‘ Well, one day Ham, the first of the black 
race, was standing on a rock under a great tall cocoa- 
nut tree. The nuts were many times beeger than they 
are now, and one of them fell down and heet heem on 
hees nut. The bump didn’t even make hees head ache, 
but eet drove hees feet down on the rock so hard that 
eet flattened them out to two times the size they had 
been — as you can see by looking at any of hees de¬ 
scendants.’ Then he said that he gueesed some one 
must have heet heem on the head when he was jus’ be- 
geening to walk.” 

“ Reckon that perhaps you’ll like him better, naow 
that you know he agrees with you abaout his feet, 
Omie,” laughed her brother. 

The girl merely sniffed and asked her sister-in-law 
the postponed question. 

“ Did he really talk like that? I heard him talking 



38 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


with the other men, last night, and thought that he 
was just an uneducated maountaineer, for he was 
using double negatives, and saying ‘ hit ’ and ‘ hain’t’ 
exactly like the rest of them. That’s one reason why 
I just couldn’t believe it, when you told me that he was 
Sheriff Blount, Virge.” 

Omie was not a little proud of her own newly acquired 
ability to keep her speech free of the Anglo-Saxonisms 
which had persisted from Colonial days down to the 
present, within those isolated mountain regions. 

“Ho! He can talk a sight better English than we 
can, when he wants tew; but I reckon that he doesn’t 
want folks up in these hills tew get the idea that he 
thinks he’s any better than they are, and is putting on 
airs with his ‘ furren ’ language.” 

“ Well, anyway that proves what I said. He isn’t 
natural — it’s just as much pretending as — as any¬ 
thing. You insist on aour talking pure English, 
and —” 

Virgil was becoming exasperated again, and answered 
almost sharply, “ That’s an entirely different thing. 
We’ve set aout tew help educate aour own kind, and 
of course we’ve got tew be an example tew them all 
the time, and as well as we can. If we didn’t live and 
behave and talk better than they dew, they’d have a 
right tew say, ‘ Why don’t you practice what you 
preach — or teach — and what good’ll hit dew us tew 
try tew git book-larnin’? ’ But everybody knows that 
Abe’s as well-educated as most city-bred college men 
and a whole lot brainier than the average, and they’re 
pleased by having him continue so simple and ‘ homely.’ 
Besides, he’s mixed up in politics naow, and his suc¬ 
cess hyar is largely dependent upon his making folks 
feel that he’s one of themselves and not a superior 
being — you ought tew know haow praoud and sensi- 



. . . WHICH IS CONTINUED 


39 


tive we maountaineers are! And it isn’t ‘ pretending ’, 
as you call it, with him. It’s natural for him tew ad¬ 
just himself tew any condition, and that he can be 
simple with the simple proves that he’s big and broad¬ 
minded.” 

Omie did not reply, but her tightly pursed lips indi¬ 
cated that she still clung to her opinions. Her brother 
was becoming thoroughly weary of the useless argu¬ 
ment — the whole subject, for that matter — and he 
would have dropped it there if Camille had not sought 
to become pacifier by begging him to continue his ac¬ 
count of their patient’s career. 

“ You left eet at a mos’ interesting place,” she re¬ 
minded him. 

Virgil made a pretense of refusing to continue — at 
least so long as Omie should be present, “ since it 
could be of no interest to her ”— but presently he 
yielded, pushed back his chair, and picked up the 
thread of his story. 

“ Well, I said that Abe decided tew go tew college, 
and naturally he set his mind on Berea . . . it’s aour 
home college, and besides the tuition was free. But 
he knew he’d have tew have some money tew pay for 
certain incidental expenses — something like twenty- 
five dollars, I think it was — and enough tew pay his 
board until he could begin tew earn his way. Fifteen 
years ago money was scarcer’n hen’s teeth in these 
maountains, for we weren’t boot-legging moonshine 
daown tew the taowns at five dollars a quart in those 
days. It was mostly barter, hyar, and he needed cash. 
So he set aout for a place where he could earn it quick¬ 
est, even though it meant sweating for it.” 

“ Where was that? ” his wife asked. 

“In a coal mine. The nearest was then more than 
fifty miles away, and he hoofed the whole distance 



40 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


over the hard maountain trails, all by his lonely, living 
on what game he could shoot. There were cabins 
where he could have bunked, nights, if he’d wanted 
tew; but he told Billy afterwards that he slept under 
the stars so that his dreams would have more free space 
tew sail in — and his legs more space tew stretch. 
Abe had made up his mind tew train himself tew to be 
a ‘ Solomon ’ ; but he was naturally a dreamer, like 
‘ David ’ ; the poet, as well as the warrior. Well, he 
finally reached the mine, and got him a job, first as 
mule boy, later with a pick. I don’t know what the 
pay was, except that it was darned little; but he lived 
on a lot less, spent what he had tew for books, and 
candles tew study them by, and saved the rest. 

“ He was still little more than a boy, but a strapper 
by this time — and he looked older than his age, just 
as he does naow. And, like every new member of a 
crew of tough coal miners, he had tew fight for the 
privilege of being left alone. I’ve heard one story of a 
scrap he had with the mine bully who’d been picking 
on * leetle Tomasso ’■— Dago Lemos, the United Min¬ 
ers’ star agitator, he is naow. I reckon I won’t go 
in tew details, but it must have been a peach! 

“ Finally Abe had saved up money enough so that he 
thought he could scrape by and make his start on the 
road tew higher education. And then some skunk stole 
every red cent of it! ” 

Camille broke in with a pitying, “Ah, quel dom - 
mage! ” reverting to her native tongue, as she generally 
did when strongly moved. 

“ C’est ga. It must have been a knock-daown, but 
it proved that Abe didn’t know the meaning of the 
word 1 quit.’ You remember the verses that ‘ Smiles ’ 
used tew repeat to Donald, sometimes, ‘ Under the 
bludgeonings of Fate . . .? ’ Abe simply began all 



. . . WHICH IS CONTINUED 


41 


over again, and, by working double time, pulled daown 
just enough tew get him intew Berea for the fall term. 
So he hit the old Dan’el Boone trail westward over the 
maountains for the edge of the Blue Grass country and 
his goal. Maybe working in a coal mine, like that, 
doesn’t seem particularly heroic or romantic, Omie; 
but I reckon that most people would say it was in 
Abe’s case. It isn’t what you dew that caounts in 
character-making: motives and conditions are the big 
percentage, as ‘ Smiles ’ showed when she insisted on 
aour marking the daily report cards fifty percent for 
initiative and endeavor. Remember? 

“ I don’t know much abaout Abe’s four years at 
Berea; but I’ve heard that he left college with the best 
record that’s ever been made there. There are a few 
yarns about him, though. After a while he learned tew 
be a mighty good blacksmith, and earned his way 
paounding iron; but, at the start, he picked up the 
necessary coin sawing and splitting wood — fifty cents 
a cord for sawing and twenty for splitting, paying for 
the tools you break aout of your own pocket. Being 
Abe, he made a game of it; got up contests and beat 
the others all hollow at it. And — oh, yes. He got 
a place in the college band for which the instruments 
were loaned, and a fellow, who was at Berea at the same 
time, once told me that the plumb funniest sight he’d 
ever seen was Abe Blount sitting ’way daown on his 
spine, his legs half way across the room, and the sleeve 
of his home-spun coat half way up tew the elbow, as 
he reached the slide of his trombone aout after a par¬ 
ticularly low note, all the while thumping aout the time 
on the floor with that size fourteen foot of his.” 

Even Omie’s eyes twinkled a little over the descrip¬ 
tion, and Camille laughed merrily. 

“ Well, the President of the college finally got right 



42 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


interested in him — naturally — and, when he learned 
that the lanky, queer-looking young man from Bear’s 
Mouth Creek had his mind set on being a lawyer, he 
gave him a letter of introduction tew a friend of his 
daown in Culverton City. He’s one of aour Supreme 
Court Judges, naow, but then he was only a trial justice 
and practicing law there. He took Abe in tew his office 
tew dew odd jobs and read law at the same time. He 
didn’t get any wages, and had tew go some tew keep 
body and soul together, clerking nights in a freight 
office and writing local news items for a newspaper; but 
the necessity of getting tew a point where he could earn 
a real living combined with his ambition tew succeed, 
and he got himself admitted tew the bar in pretty near 
record time.” 

“ Bien fait! ” cried Virgil’s wife, softly clapping her 
hands. ‘‘Voila, he had labored with deeligence and 
fought with bravery. Now he arrive’ at hees — what 
you call eet? Goal? ” 

“ That’s right. Saounds like a story in a Fourth 
Reader, doesn’t it, Omie? Only, like most goals, Abe’s 
turned aout tew be a ‘ fleeting ’ one. Life’s a lot like 
a journey over these maountains — you reach one peak, 
and there’s another beyond it tew be climbed, every 
time. Some folks are like aour own ancesters who 
settled these parts; they get discouraged, stick in one 
of the narrow passes and ‘ let the rest of the world 
go by.’ But the Dan’el Boones keep on climbing, ever¬ 
lastingly, over the Blue Ridges, the Smoky Maountains 
and the Cumberlands of life, always following the path 
of the sun. And Abe’s that kind. 

“ He was a 1 full-pledged ’ lawyer — as Billy put 
it — naow, but for a couple of years he didn’t have any 
practice tew amaount tew anything. His instructor 



. . . WHICH IS CONTINUED 


43 


had been appointed tew the Circuit bench, so Abe 
opened a small office of his own, which soon became 
pretty well craowded, especially nights; but not with 
clients. He had plenty^of friends, and it was a popular 
meeting place for politicians and others who got the 
habit of dropping in there tew listen to Abe spin yarns, 
talk and smoke. You know what the old Indian said: 
‘ Injun heap big smoker. Smoking great help tew 
laziness.’ ” 

“ Well, Abe wasn’t lazy, anyway, and luckily for 
him he wasn’t praoud, either. He kept right on with 
his clerking, nights, acting as reporter and dewing 
odd jobs — when he wasn’t reading law and everything 
else he could lay his hands on — even after clients 
began tew come. It was a case of ‘ have tew,’ I reckon; 
for at the start they were mostly charity cases. I’ve 
heard that he always charged a fee for the sake of his 
client’s self-respect; but that sometimes it wasn’t 
more’n fifty cents, and he paid the costs aout of his 
own pocket, plenty of times. One famous case of 
his — well, never mind that. I keep thinking of new 
stories abaout him. 

“ At the same time he joined up with the local State 
militia company; but he stood aout from the ranks in 
more ways than one, and, by the spring of Seventeen, 
he’d got tew be a Lieutenant and a darned good officer. 
By that time his practice had grown tew be quite a 
sizable one, too; people laughed at his awkwardness, 
but they liked him just the same, and were growing 
tew realize that he knew more real law than any man 
in these parts — some say than any man in the whole 
State. He had a way of getting juries on his side, and 
he was plumb honest. 

“ Well, then we went intew the War. Abe threw up 



44 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


his practice and commission in the militia and enlisted 
in the regulars as a private — the first man in the 
Caounty tew dew it.” 

“Oh, that was good! ” Camille’s soft eyes flashed 
with the old war-time passion. 

“You bet it was good,” he answered. “You see, 
he’d been studying and thinking abaout world con¬ 
ditions; his mind was already made up as tew where 
aour duty, and his, lay, and he wasn’t willing tew wait 
even until his company should be mustered intew Fed¬ 
eral Service. So he gave up his commission tew shoul¬ 
der a gun again, in order tew get c over there ’ as soon 
as possible — and he never got tew go at all! ” 

“ But why didn’t he, Virge? ” 

“ Fate played him what looked like a dirty trick. 
It beats the dickens haow things work aout in this 
world. There I was, greener’n grass in soldiering and 
a draft-dodger. Yet they shipped me tew France and 
I come home with a medal pinned on my chest — just 
by luck. And there was Abe Blount, a trained soldier, 
crazy tew get intew the scrap, and they never let him 
aoutside his own State. Just the same he really did 
ten — yes, a hundred — times more towards helping 
win the war than I, if that’s any satisfaction. I’ll bet 
he wouldn’t admit that he did, though. It wasn’t long 
before his C. O. spotted him, not only as an old soldier, 
but as a man who knew and could handle men — 
especially maountaineers. They jumped him right 
ahead intew a commission again, but kept him first in 
the recruiting and then in the training service. There 
was no hero-stuff abaout it — just hard, unappreciated, 
routine work — but he was a hero, just the same. He 
saw that it had got tew be done, that he was fitted tew 
dew it, and that it was ‘ his job.’ I reckon he might 
have worked it so’s tew be sent over seas, but that isn’t 



. . . WHICH IS CONTINUED 


45 


the Abe Blount way — he’s too conscientious and pa¬ 
triotic, sometimes for his own good, for he took this 
‘ sheriff job ’ for the same reasons. Oh, well. His 
time’s coming. You know what one of the old poets 
said, 1 Peace hath its victories no less renowned than 
war.’ Life’s a battlefield, when you come right daown 
tew it. 

“ When he was mustered aout of service he went 
back tew practicing law again, and cases began tew 
come in right smart. Besides, he got himself ap¬ 
pointed as special State’s Attorney tew help prosecute 
moonshine cases in the Circuit Court daown at Fay- 
ville, and some of his experiences were what decided 
him tew give up a good practice and run for sheriff.” 

“ Why? ” demanded Omie, forgetting her pose for 
the moment. 

“ He made up his mind that the new prohibition law 
was being bust wide open in these maountains, and 
that the office of sheriff was being filled in a half¬ 
hearted manner. There were mighty few raids being 
pulled, and seldom evidence or witnesses enough tew 
get convictions on. Sheriff Poole didn’t believe in the 
Eighteenth Amendment; said so, and wouldn’t pro¬ 
ceed against breakers of the law unless he was plumb 
forced tew. The result was that the number of moon¬ 
shiners was growing every day, and they were getting 
away with murder — that’s literal, for a lot of shoot¬ 
ing cases were growing aout of the business. Abe 
wasn’t keen for the law, as it stands; but he recognized 
that it was the law, and believed that it should be lived 
up tew, and enforced, strictly. ‘Let’s give it a fair 
trial,’ he said. ‘ It’s the people’s law, and it’s for them 
tew decide whether or not they want it changed if they 
don’t like it — not for the individual tew say that he 
won’t obey it just because he doesn’t like it, personally.’ 



46 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ I don’t yet see haow he succeeded in getting him¬ 
self elected on such a platform, in this Caounty, but he 
did. Where there’s only one real political party, Per¬ 
sonality caounts more than Platforms, I reckon. Any- 
haow, Abe won aout in spite of having the unpopular 
side of that issue, which was the only one, for most 
everybody liked him. And of course nobody thought 
that he really would start in tew clean up these maoun- 
tains the way he has, even though he’d given them 
fair warning. If they had — well, I don’t guess that 
he’d be aour guest, naow. But what he did was typical 
of him. It meant a big sacrifice on his part; but it 
was another case of a disagreeable job which had got 
tew be done, and he figured that he was the one tew 
dew it; he’s a natural-born public servant, always ready 
tew serve his fellow men. And you-all know what he 
has done, and the reputation he’s made in the last two 
years, as well as I dew. 

“ There, that’s the whole darned story, and I hope 
your curiosity’s satisfied, for I’m plumb talked-aout. 
As for you, Omie —” 

“ Oh, 1 didn’t ask you to tell it — although, of 
course, I was glad tew hear it, and you made it most 
interesting. He really is even more wonderful than I 
thought.” 

Virgil could take no exception to her words, but the 
tone in which they were spoken had a suggestion of 
sarcasm which brought a sharp retort to his lips. 

But Camille intervened again, saying hastily: “ Yes. 
And we mus’ do our best to make heem get well, 
queekly. I know that you’ll want to help, Omie dear. 
And, since I took in hees breakfas’, won’t you please 
go and get the dishes, if he ees finis’ with them? ” 



CHAPTER V 


SURPRISES 

At the door of the hospital Omie paused, her at¬ 
tention for the moment caught by the clear call of a 
whippoorwill, somewhere among the bushes on the 
“ yon ” side of the creek. She instantly pursed her 
sensitive lips and imitated the flute-like note so ac¬ 
curately that a human ear certainly would have been 
deceived, and the hidden bird either was, or else mock¬ 
ingly entered into a game of call and answer. 

Standing thus, the girl let her gaze wander over the 
colorful picture spread before her, raising it from the 
silvery glinting waiters of the creek, which flowed 
through the foreground just below, to her own home 
beyond them — the usual simple double cabin built of 
unhewn, lichen-covered logs, but now modernized by 
several shining windows, an addition, and a commodi¬ 
ous porch which spring had converted into a bower of 
pink and crimson rambler roses; then on and up the 
steep side of the mountain, which began at their very 
back door, to terminate with its summit in sharp relief 
against the cloudless, cerulean sky high above her. 

For a moment she stood there, her hand resting 
lightly on the lintel, her shapely tanned arm bare above 
the elbow and an aureole of golden light about her 
head, as the morning sunshine flooded through her 
loosened hair — wholly unconscious of the fact that the 
door was wide open behind her and that she had moved 
into full view of the man who lay upon a hospital cot 
within the house. The delectable picture of budding 
womanhood was framed against the glowing back- 
47 


48 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


ground, and Abe Blount took it in with keen apprecia¬ 
tion, almost holding his breath for fear of breaking 
the spell. Then Omie turned, suddenly, caught his 
frank and friendly gaze bent upon her, and the warm 
color mounted to her temples as swiftly as though 
she had been surprised in some unmaidenly act. She 
was, indeed, both embarrassed and angry. 

The man’s deep-set gray eyes held the suggestion of 
a smile, and immediately his lips smiled as well. An 
entirely new expression was imparted to the whole 
plain, somber countenance, and Omie was conscious of 
the fact that her heart gave a still quicker throb. Her 
eyes grew misty for an instant and she caught her 
breath with an almost audible gasp. Her feelings were 
inexplicable. Of course she was angry — at herself 
and at him as well; but it was not that, altogether. 
For one thing, he wasn’t “ just plain maountain ” as 
she had conceived him to be; nor yet, at the moment, 
ugly at all. He was just — just different! 

Her surprise and confusion were so complete that, 
when she attempted to speak, all that she could suc¬ 
ceed in doing was to stammer out, “ I — I’m Omie.” 

From the bed came a deep, humorous and rather 
pleasant drawl. “ Naow, that’s funny. I was just say¬ 
ing tew myself , 4 Abe Blount, if that young lady’s name 
isn’t Omie it ought tew be.” 

“ Why — why? ” asked the girl, astonishment and 
curiosity conquering every other feeling. 

“ Why? Oh, just because it seems tew fit you — or 
you tew fit it. It’s neither too short nor too long; it’s 
peculiarly ‘ maountain’; yet it’s not a bit ordinary; 
it’s both sweet and merry; and finally it suggests the 
unexpected — as though one might frequently have tew 
say, ‘ Oh me, Oh my, Omie.’ ” 

Omie laughed, in spite of herself, the whole thing 



SURPRISES 


49 


was so surprising and absurd. Ought she to feel com¬ 
plimented, or not? Almost without conscious volition 
she found herself answering, “ But 4 what’s in a 
name? ’ ” and his eyes twinkled still more humorously 
as he retorted, “ Everything! The names of all Bill 
Shakespeare’s characters are perfect fits, for instance.” 

“ Well, haow abaout yours? ” she demanded. 

“ Made tew order. 1 Abraham ’ is long and sort of 
loose-jointed, while ‘ Abe ’ is country — or maountain- 
fied, homely as a hedgehog —” 

Omie was startled, and again the color flooded her 
cheeks. Could he have overheard what she had said 
or was this merely coincidence? This time, however, 
her distress sharpened her wit, and she hastily capped 
his unfinished sentence with the words: 

“ But honest.” 

“ Let’s hope so. One man succeeded in making the 
two words synonymous, and it is up tew the rest of us 
tew ape honest Abe, at least in that respect, so far as 
we can,” he replied with evident appreciation. 
“ Speaking of names; when I was a boy this creek was 
called ‘ Beaten ’ and the folks hyar-abaout acted the 
same. Naow they tell me that you-all have changed the 
name tew ‘ Smiling Pass ’ and, from what I’ve seen 
already, I’d say that the adage abaout giving a dog a 
bad name works the other way araound, too. The spot 
seems tew be living up tew its new, good name, right 
smart — it’s sure improved a-plenty since the days 
when I was seven or eight years old and used tew 
wander up to Bill Cress’s still and get filled up with 
moonshine.” 

“ Did Bill used tew give it tew you? The villain.” 
Omie was indignant. 

“ Well, I hadn’t any money, and I’ll admit that even 
then I was too honest tew steal. ‘ Bad Bill ’ wasn’t 



50 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


all bad; he liked his fun, although getting a kid full of 
corn whiskey showed a rather crude sense of humor, 
I suppose. They tell me that he’s reformed, naow, 
along with the locality.” 

“Yes. ‘Smiles’ did it — Mrs. McDonald, who 
faounded this school, you know. And she named the 
place ‘ Smiling Pass.’ At least, she and Camille did, 
between them. Camille is the one who dressed your 
wound last night. She’s Virgil’s wife, and I’m his 
sister.” 

“ The mystery is solved! I’ve been wondering just 
where that sweet and skillful little ‘ furriner ’ fitted in- 
tew the scheme.” 

“ Only she isn’t a ‘ furriner,’ naow. She’s one of us,” 
Omie declared decisively. 

“ Good for us, then. But, in settling one point, 
you’ve araoused my curiosity abaout a lot of other 
things, and I hope you’ll satisfy it. An invalid must 
be humored, you know.” 

Abe smiled again, and so did the girl. 

“ Well, I will, if I can.” 

“ I reckon you can if you will. I’ve heard a lot of 
mighty interesting things abaout this school, hospital 
and citizenship training project of yours, while I’ve 
been away from home, and I’d sure love tew hear the 
whole story. Please sit daown and —” 

“ Oh, you’d better let Virgil tell you, sometime. He’s 
a lot better at telling stories than I am.” 

The twinkle in the man’s humorous eyes increased 
again as he responded, “Well, I know something of 
Virgil’s reputation as a spinner of yarns — I’ve read 
the Iliad, and —” The puzzled expression on Omie’s 
face caused him to break off and apologize. “That 
was a joke and a poor one. I was speaking of the Latin 
poet. Your Virgil may be just as skillful in weaving 



SURPRISES 


51 


romances, but I’ll be satisfied with just the facts from 
you — that is, if you’re not too busy.” 

“ N-no, I guess not. This is vacation — we have 
two weeks in the spring at planting time, but the school 
keeps up all the rest of the year. We’ve got tew make 
up abaout a hundred years of lost time, hyar, you 
see.” 

Thus launched upon a subject in which she was 
bound up, heart and soul, Omie told the story of 
Smiling Pass, simply and without particular sequence, 
but with a fresh enthusiasm which made it interesting 
and appealing. Her listener was sufficiently enter¬ 
tained to urge her on with questions and comments 
until he had drawn from her almost the whole romantic 
history of “ Smiles ” — the adopted child of their 
mountains — her experiences in the outside world 
which lay, like another country, beyond the narrow 
confines of their encircling hills, and of the new settle¬ 
ment which she and her invalid physician-husband had 
founded on “ Beaten,” “ tew bring help tew them as 
kain’t help theirselves ”■— as Humpty Hite had ex¬ 
pressed it. 

Before she had progressed far in her recital Omie 
had unthinkingly taken a seat on the edge of the hos¬ 
pital cot, and, as her brother chanced to pass by the 
open window, and glanced into the room, he saw her 
there, talking fast, her color coming and going and 
the light of excitement in her eyes as she described 
the night when their newly built home had been at¬ 
tacked and shot up by drunken mountaineers. 

“ Whee-ew,” he whistled under his breath, as he 
hastily moved away on silent feet, the look of astonish¬ 
ment on his countenance giving place to one of deep 
amusement. As soon as he was out of ear-shot he 
chuckled and said to himself, “ Well, I’ll be darned! ” 



52 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


When Omie had ended her story, somewhat out of 
breath and suddenly embarrassed— for, after all, 
she scarcely knew the man, and he was a famous per¬ 
sonage, in spite of being so apparently commonplace 
and pleasant — Abe remarked, “ Why, that’s great! I 
didn’t know that you-all were planning — no, were 
dewing — such a big thing for us maountain people. 
It’s — inspirational, and I dew believe that you’ve hit 
on the real solution of aour educational problem hyar. 
I’ve been too busy tew give it as much thought as I 
should, but I know it’s a mighty difficult one— folks 
aout in the rest of the United States couldn’t grasp it 
at all, unless they had lived hyar the way your ‘ Smiles ’ 
has. The trouble is that people don’t miss what they’ve 
never had and don’t know anything abaout — whether 
its champagne or education. And, under those circum¬ 
stances, supplying it isn’t enough, by half. You can’t 
make a mule drink merely by bringing him a bucket of 
water; but, if you can help him tew work up a thirst, 
he’ll go tew it, fast enough. I can see that you-all 
are making education interesting — why, I believe I’d 
like tew come tew school hyar, myself.” 

Omie was surprised to find herself saying, eagerly, 
“ Oh, I wish you would. Of course I don’t mean as a 
pupil,” she laughed, “ but as one of our teachers in 
the Citizenship course. I know that you could teach 
us what it means tew be a true American citizen, and 
what the privileges and obligations of one are.” 

“ Wouldn’t I love tew, though! Perhaps I can, 
someday. It wouldn’t be a plumb bad idea tew give 
the kids some notion of their Country’s laws, while 
they’re young; and why we ought tew be obedient and 
loyal tew them. Then when they grow up —. Most 
of us seem tew think Law tries tew make slaves of 
people, instead of which men’s greed and passions are 



SURPRISES 


53 


the real slave-makers. The law merely curbs them, 
and the best sort of freedom is faound within, rather 
than aoutside, it.” 

“ Of course. We’re trying tew teach something like 
that, naow, and it would be wonderful tew have a 
great lawyer, like you, tew explain it. It seems tew 
me that education and law sort of go together in bring¬ 
ing civilization.” 

“ Good for you, Omie. They should, and dew, if the 
laws are righteous ones and the education is real — 
naow-adays such a lot of it seems tew be just make- 
believe.” 

“ Oh, please dew it! The children will all be back 
before you are well enough tew leave, I reckon.” 

“ I’m not so sure abaout that. An ‘ honest ’ man 
puts business before pleasure, you know, and there’s 
so much work waiting for me tew dew that I’ve got 
tew get well in a hurry.” 

There was real regret in the girl’s voice as she an¬ 
swered, “ Yes, I know you’re awfully busy being sheriff. 
And you’re going tew run for State’s Attorney, too, 
and—” 

“ ‘ Naow, I declare that’s too bad. You’ve been lis¬ 
tening at doors — and behind trees — and daown chim¬ 
neys — or you wouldn’t have known that! ’ ” 

Omie did not see the quizzical smile on his lips, and 
there was a note of such real aggrievement in his voice 
that — coupled with the astonishing nature of the re¬ 
mark itself — it caused her to jump up from the bed 
in surprise. What had she said that could possibly 
have caused him offense? 

Her expression was one of such ludicrous bewilder¬ 
ment that Abe laughed outright. 

“ That was another joke,” he said. “ I was just 
quoting from ‘ Alice Through the Looking-glass.’ 



54 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Those were Humpty Dumpty’s words when he discov¬ 
ered that Alice already knew his secret.” 

The girl gave an uncertain laugh, but her amazement 
was increased and showed forth in her voice as she 
repeated, “ 4 Alice Through the Looking-glass ’ ? Why 

— why, that’s a child’s book, isn’t it? ” 

44 A book for children of all ages, yes. If you’ve 
never read it, I certainly advise you tew. It’s plumb 
full of wise nonsense that I haven’t yet got tew old tew 
enjoy — and I hope I never shall.” He dropped his 
voice to a tone of confidences, and continued , 44 You see, 
I have an idea that the country of Boy-and-Girlhood is 
a wonderful place tew which tew go and rest up a bit, 
naow and then, when your brain gets sort of footsore 
with traveling over the rough spots of Grown-up Land; 
and books like 4 Alice ’ are like blazed trees on the 
back trail. Sometimes I 4 git plumb skeered ’ that I’ll 
forget the way there before I’m old enough tew get in 
again through the unattractive door called Second 
Childhood. I’d sure hate tew dew that, and I’m always 
on the look-aout for good guides — that’s one of the 
reasons why I’m aiming tew be a friend of yours, if 
you’ll let me. The moment I laid eyes on you, last 
night, with your hair in a pigtail daown your back, I 
said tew myself , 4 Abe, old fellow, there’s a little woman 

— whose name ought tew be Omie, if it isn’t — that 
hasn’t got so far away from Boy-and-Girlhood land 
that she can’t find her way back, with her eyes shut. 
And maybe she’ll let you go along, naow and then.” 

The girl remained standing, nonplused, her regard 
fixed with naive amazement on the heavy-featured 
giant whose lanky frame was stretched on the cot bed, 
leaving very little of it to spare. Her imagination had 
played about him many times, but its wildest flight 
had certainly fallen short, and far short, of the reality. 



SURPRISES 


55 


What strange sort of a man was he, indeed? Could 
he, who had just uttered such incredible, nonsensical 
words in a tone of voice which was almost beseeching 
really be the lawyer whose ability was held in such 
high respect; the Sheriff who had come to be regarded 
as the moonshiners’ Nemesis, feared by them as no 
other was feared; the man whom her brother had 
lately described in such glowing terms as a fearless 
fighter — a man of action and few words? Omie’s 
limited experience had produced nothing by which she 
could gauge him. Moreover, her thoughts were now 
in a turmoil, for within the space of two short hours one 
creature of her imagination — the idol which she had 
made and worshiped — had been shattered, and the 
distorted, ugly image which she had willfully built up 
out of the fragments of the old had been destroyed just 
as suddenly, just as completely. The girl had honestly 
felt that nothing could possibly make her like this real 
Abe Blount, who was so utterly different from her 
mythical hero of the name. It was a childish and un¬ 
reasonable feeling, but even Virgil’s apologia of him 
had failed to shake it. She had gone to the room where 
the man lay, at Camille’s request, from a sense of duty 
and unwillingly. Then, the miracle of personality! 
After less than half an hour’s conversation with him, 
during which she had done most of the talking, she 
had felt not only completely at ease in his presence, but 
almost as though she had known him always. And she 
had unreservedly given him her liking! 

Now she was experiencing another revulsion, which 
left her completely bewildered. She was angry again. 
He had intimated that he regarded her as merely a child 
with whom he might play, and she suspected that he 
was still making jokes at her expense — yet at the same 
time she knew that she had been a little thrilled by his 




56 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


confidences and that she had, momentarily, been filled 
with an indefinably pleasurable sensation by the very 
suggestion which now seemed hateful. Omie could not 
understand her own feelings, and it made her corres¬ 
pondingly uneasy. Back in her subconscious mind 
there lingered a little of the primitive mountaineer’s 
superstition. She had heard hypnotism discussed; and, 
although her quick brain had grasped Donald’s ex¬ 
planation of it, her heart had protested that it was a 
stealing of people’s souls — some of her neighbors even 
yet refused to submit to anesthesia, lest the surgeon 
rob them of their souls while they were unconscious. 
Now the thought flashed through her mind, “ I wonder 
if he could have hypnotized me? He has such strange, 
deep eyes.” She dismissed the idea as soon as it was 
formed, but her uneasiness persisted. She wanted to 
run away, yet could not make up her mind to do so. 
She knew that she would be angry with herself if she 
did. She would not show that she was afraid, nor act 
so discourteously. After all, there wasn’t a thing to 
be afraid of. He might be queer, but he was certainly 
trying to be friendly; there was a whimsical smile 
in his eyes, although she noticed that now his mouth 
looked almost pathetically tired. 

All of these conflicting sensations succeeded one 
another so rapidly that there was hardly a pause before 
she managed to stammer out an answer. 

“ Why — why — I don’t guess that I know just what 
you mean, but — Of course I want tew help you — 
help you get well, Mr. Blount — ” 

“‘Mr. Blount! Well, I like that! Aren’t I just 
as much ‘ maounting ’ as you, Miss Gayheart? My 
name’s ‘ Abe,’ and I insist upon my inalienable right 
tew be called that. We’re going tew be friends, aren’t 
we? ” 



SURPRISES 


57 


This time his voice sounded so stern and serious that 
Omie drew a step nearer to the verge of panic. She 
knew it, and her resentment towards him, and anger at 
her own foolishness, mounted when she heard herself 
answer, as though it were another speaking, “ Why — 
why I guess so, sir.” 

“ Sir! ” This from Omie Gayheart, who had never 
so much as thought of “ Siring ” any one before in all 
her life; that mischievous, free young spirit who had 
never shown outward respect for any man. 

It seemed that Abe Blount divined something of 
what was happening in her brain, for he gave an apolo¬ 
getic and rather rueful laugh, as he said, “ I reckon 
you must think that I’m a queer sort of fellow. Well, 
I’ve often thought so, myself. And lying still with 
not a thing tew dew makes me feel as though I were on 
a vacation, and I don’t want tew be serious. There’s 
another thing; I don’t guess I know haow to talk tew 
women. I’ve spent most of my life with men, and sort 
of got intew the habit of saying just what pops intew 
my head — and my friends have learned tew make 
allowances for me. Tew tell the truth, I’m kind of 
afraid of ’em — girls, I mean — too, but that’s a secret 
which I’m trusting you tew keep. It would never dew 
tew let it get aout, naow that women have the vote, 
you know.” 

Omie’s mind performed another complete revolution. 
Wonder of wonders, he confessed to being afraid of 
her! On the instant, all of her self-possession flooded 
back, and with it came a vague determination to make 
him pay, sometime, for the unpleasant sensations which 
he had, unwittingly, caused her. Her knowing that 
they were the result of her own foolishness made no 
difference. 

She gave a merry laugh, and answered, “ Oh, you’re 



58 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


not queer, but you sure are funny. And you needn’t 
expect me tew believe for a minute that a man who 
isn’t afraid of moonshiners and murderers is afraid of 
a maid. It’ll be fun tew play 4 boy-and-girl ’ with the 
famous Abe Blount, sometime — something tew tell 
my grandchildren abaout, if I ever have any; but naow 
I’ve got tew go. Camille’s waiting for me tew bring 
back your breakfast dishes. Is there anything that 
you’d like — Abe? ” 

“ Why, no. I don’t guess so. Oh, yes there are — 
three things; but there’s no hurry abaout them. For 
one, I’d like a pitcher of your spring water — I should 
think that I’d drunk all the licker that I £ looked 
upon,’ last night. For another, my soul thirsteth for 
knowledge, and, when you told me about what a paow- 
erful fine library you had here . . .” 

“ It’s the largest in the Caounty,” the girl broke 
in, proudly. “ We’ve got more than seven thousand 
books, sent in by aour friends all over the United 
States — I catalogued most of them, myself — 
although, of course, a good many of them are loaned 
aout tew other schools and settlements.” 

“ That’s fine. Books, like blood, should always be 
kept in circulation. Well, maybe you can spare me a 
few — especially Gibbon’s ‘ Decline and Fall of the 
Roman Empire,’ and the two ‘ Alice ’ books. I’d love 
tew read the latter tew you, sometime, if you’ll let 
me.” 

“ Of course I will. Well, that’s two things. And 
‘ thirdly,’ as Preacher Billy says? ” 

“ Thirdly, since Mahomet can’t go tew the maoun- 
tain, at present, he’d plumb love tew have some of it 
come tew him. I’ve been lying hyar wishing I were 
aout under that Redbush tree there, looking up at the 
blue sky —” 



SURPRISES 


59 


“ I can’t bring you any of the sky, this morning, but 
you shall have some of the flowers, right smart,” cried 
the girl, before she stopped to think what odd requests 
these were from such a man. But, when the thought 
did come to her, the former feeling of unreality swept 
back and she almost ran from the building. The soiled 
breakfast dishes were left on the chair by his bed¬ 
side, wholly forgotten. 



CHAPTER VI 


MORE UNEXPECTED GUESTS 

It was noon. Dr. Thornsberry had come, performed 
his task, and now departed, astride his plodding, moth- 
eaten mule, on his return journey to Fayville over the 
tortuous, twelve mile creek road which spelled at least 
four hours of riding, so rough it was, so full of deep 
ruts and big and little bowlders, except for the few 
hundred yards at Smiling Pass. There the boys of the 
Citizenship Club had captured and tamed it and it ran 
flat and firmly built; alike an example and a challenge 
to the County. 

Virgil and Camille had stepped outside the little hos¬ 
pital to discuss the operation, and had there been joined 
by Omie — strangely silent, for her. Gunshot wounds 
were no great novelty in those mountains. Not a few 
victims of them had been treated in “ Smiles’ ” House 
of Health, and left the girl unmoved; but now her 
vivid imagination had been aroused and at work. 
Springs of pity were welling up in her heart. 

“ Alors ” Camille was saying, “ eet was not deeficult 
to see that he had been a soldier. All the time he was 
making the jokes, and he did not once — how you 
say eet? — ‘ fleench’ ? ” 

“ Then you didn’t give him ether? ” inquired the 
younger woman, unable wholly to check the tremulous 
note in her voice. 

“Not so’s you’d notice it!” Virgil answered. 
“ Camille suggested it — I reckon she wanted tew show 
off a bit before old Thornsberry — but Abe hooted at 
the idea. Said he wasn’t going tew take any chances 
60 


MORE UNEXPECTED GUESTS 61 


of having the doc amputate his foot, while he was un¬ 
conscious, tew get the bones tew sell tew some museum 
as the pedal extremity of some prehistoric giant.” 

“ Did he — did the doctor have tew cut very deep 
tew get aout the bullet? ” 

“ 4 Cut! ’ I call it hacking — I could have done a 
better job, myself. It made me plumb sick tew think 
that Don McDonald wasn’t hyar. You should have 
heard old Thornsberry instructing Camille haow tew 
dress it, and her ‘ Yes, Doctor,’ just as though she 
really intended tew carry aout his orders tew the letter. 
Come, own up. You’re not going tew follow a single 
one of them, are you? ” he added, addressing his wife 
with a grin. She merely smiled, but that was answer 
enough. He knew the thought which was in her mind: 
“ For every wound he has dressed, have I not cared for 
a hundred, in the hospital in France? And did not the 
greatest of all surgeons — ” meaning Donald, of course 
— “ teach me how? ” 

Omie spoke impulsively. “ Oh, I dew hope that he’ll 
get well, soon. He has such a big work tew dew.” 

“ Right. Still the Caounty’s loss is aour gain — it’s 
going tew be mighty interesting having some one like 
him tew talk with.” 

“ Why don’t you slap him for saying that, Camille? 
The idea, when it’s his honeymoon! ” 

Virgil laughed and slipped his arm about his wife. 

“ Oh, she understands. I really meant ‘ some one 
for you tew talk with,’ so that you wouldn’t be pester¬ 
ing us all the time. I don’t know what we’re going tew 
dew with you, naow that Donald and Rose have gone 
and left us — temporarily, at least — to sink or swim; 
Margaret and Phil are off for good, only it isn't good; 
and the kids are all away vacationing.” 

“You needn’t trouble tew dew anything with me, 



62 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


thank you. I’ll leave you alone — and / want tew be 
left alone, too.” She paused; then added in a voice that 
was almost tragically mournful, “ I wish I were a caow” 

“ A ‘ caow ’ ? You! ” Her brother redoubled his 
laughter. 

“ Well, I dew. I don’t see what the good is of having 
brains and — and feeling , anyhaow. It would be a lot 
more comfortable just tew exist, wander araound the 
maountain-side eating grass, or lie in the shade and 
chew your cud.” 

“ Listen tew her, Camille. Wouldn’t you think that 
she had a terrible life, or was seventy instead of seven¬ 
teen? ” 

“ I don’t care. That’s haow I feel, this morning.” 

Virgil regarded it as a rich joke, but Omie was not 
jesting. It would be difficult exactly to explain the 
girl’s state of mind, at this time. Certainly she could 
not have done so. Too young to indulge in conscious 
self-analysis, she was nevertheless beginning to feel, 
at times, that the balance between happiness and un¬ 
happiness, pleasure and pain, was too heavily on the 
wrong side of Life’s ledger-book. Certainly the drab, 
shut-in existence of the mountain people, in the midst 
of whom she dwelt, supplied a premise for such a con¬ 
clusion. Smiling Pass had lifted her up, and with 
childish enthusiasm she had consecrated herself to the 
task of bettering those conditions, in imitation of Rose 
McDonald, whom she worshiped. But now “ Smiles ” 
had left them; the fountain-head of her ambition had 
ceased to flow, and as yet nothing else had taken its 
place. Omie’s own impulses were too transitory and 
contradictory, still, to carry her steadily onward toward 
a goal, lacking direction from outside. 

Moreover, her moods were always in part the re¬ 
flection of internal and external conditions — and whose 



MORE UNEXPECTED GUESTS 63 


are not? The night had been filled with excitement, 
with no sleep for any of them after two o’clock; the 
morning had been a trying one, and now the weather 
had suddenly changed from bright sunshine to leaden 
hues with the heavy threat of a storm in the dun-tinted 
clouds which overhung the narrow valley, as though 
stretched from mountain peak to mountain peak. A 
wash of watery gray had dulled the flaunting colors of 
an hour earlier. The creek had lost its appearance of 
laughter, and become sullen. To the South, still far in 
the distance, thunder was faintly growling. Already 
rain was beginning to fall in scattering drops, which 
spattered upon the veranda and were quickly drunk 
up by the dry boards, leaving irregular splotches. 

“ Well, I don’t guess that I’d care much abaout 
being a caow in a rainstorm,” remarked Virgil. “ Let’s 
go inside.” 

He turned and was about to lead the way into the 
House of Happiness, when there fell on their ears the 
sound of hoofs rapidly approaching up the creek road. 
The next instant two riders appeared around the bend 
made by an out-thrust spur of the mountain, and drew 
near at a brisk trot. They were obviously trying to 
beat out the oncoming storm. 

The foremost rider, a woman, caught sight of the 
group on the veranda at the same moment, waved a 
slender, gauntleted hand to them and spurred her 
mount to a faster pace. She rode side-saddle, but with 
a particularly graceful poise; her close-fitting habit 
was fashionably tailored, its skirt falling in graceful 
folds over trim riding boots. A snug, snowy-white 
stock accentuated the slenderness of her neck and set 
off the glowing color in her cheeks and the profusion of 
her dark hair, on which a small turban hat, with a sin¬ 
gle white plume, perched jauntily. 



64 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Omie’s sharp eyes took it all in with a glance, and 
she uttered a low exclamation of pleasure. 

Indeed, the newcomer made a strikingly attractive 
picture, and behind her rode a gentleman no less strik¬ 
ing, in his way. His somewhat corpulent form seemed 
to be molded into a tailored riding suit of gray tweed; 
shiny leather puttees encased his substantial calves; a 
broad-brimmed gray felt hat adorned his head. His 
face, too, had pronounced coloring, but — as they were 
to discover on closer observation — the ruddiness in 
his cheeks was not the healthy flush of exercise, but 
caused by a network of veins of red and purplish 
hues, and his eyes, although the same shade of bluish- 
gray as the girl’s, protruded noticeably and had a some¬ 
what glassy look. For the rest, he wore a typical 
“ Kentucky Colonel ” imperial and mustache, its flow¬ 
ing ends elaborately curled, and these, like his abun¬ 
dant hair, were iron-gray. 

Even at some distance they quite obviously appeared 
to be father and daughter, people of position, and 
dwellers of a different world outside the hills. 

So few strangers — especially strangers who dressed 
and carried themselves in such a fashion — ever pene¬ 
trated that remote mountain pass, it is small wonder 
that Omie remained standing in the rain, bound to the 
spot with excited curiosity which banished the look 
of discontent entirely from her face. 

Virgil did not wait for the riders to reach the en¬ 
trance, but anticipated them by running down the 
steps and steep path to swing open the gate above 
which was hung the sign, “ SMILING PASS. Come in, 
Stranger.” The two horses were skillfully turned into 
the yard on the gallop and reined up to a prancing stop, 
the girl at the same time calling out, gayly, “ Oh, 



MORE UNEXPECTED GUESTS 65 


thanks. We saw your place and hoped that you’d take 
us in, hyar, until the rain stops. It’s going tew be only 
a shower, I reckon; but it sure is pelting, naow, isn’t 
it? ” Her voice was soft and pleasantly drawling. 

“ Sure is. Both of you run right up tew the haouse 
. . . I’ll take care of your horses,” responded Virgil, 
swinging the girl lightly from the saddle with his strong, 
young hands clasping her slender waist. Her father 
dismounted somewhat stiffly and awkwardly. 

“ Much obliged, brother,” he said. “ This is hos¬ 
pitality, and — ” 

“Pshaw! We’re ‘ maounting’ and the maoun- 
taineer’s motto is ‘ Howdy, stranger. Drap in and set 
a piece; stay the night; stay damn nigh a week ’—ex¬ 
cept where suspected revenuers are concerned.” 

The girl laughed, a silvery note with a rising inflec¬ 
tion. 

“ You-all had better not dare us like that, or we 
might accept. Isn’t it pretty, hyar, daddy? — and un¬ 
expected, in the midst of so many dreary looking 
cabins.” 

Her father grunted an assent, for he was already 
panting up the steep path toward the veranda where 
Camille and Omie were still standing, partially shel¬ 
tered within the doorway of the House of Happiness. 

They reached it, and, without preface, the young 
woman exclaimed, “ Why, you two pretty girls! Dew 
tell me who you are. Of course you’re not maoun- 
taineers.” 

“ But we are — at least, I am,” Omie answered. 

“ Really? Why, you look positively — citified ” 

Omie’s smile vanished and her eyes flashed. The 
words were not unfriendly, the tone was extremely cor¬ 
dial, even flattering; but it seemed to her to be patroniz- 



66 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


ing; and she half-suspected that the speaker had caught 
herself just in time to substitute the word “ citified ” 
for “ civilized.” 

The visitor did not notice the change, however, and 
pattered on, brightly, “ And so this is ‘ Smiling Pass’ ! 
Haow perfectly fascinating. Dew you know, I’ve been 
wild tew come up hyar, ever since I first read abaout 
the wonderful things that you-all are dewing for the 
maountain whites ”— a deadly insult, though she did 
not know it; “maountain whites,” indeed! “I sup¬ 
pose you know that your school has become quite fa¬ 
mous and been written up in the city newspapers, my 
dear.” 

She laid her gloved hand on Omie’s arm in such a 
friendly manner that it was impossible for the latter 
not to melt a little and smile somewhat uncertainly. 
Here was indeed another new kind of creature. 

“ And are you one of the pupils, or a teacher? 
Please tell me — you might be either, you know.” 

“ I’m both,” answered the girl. “ I’m learning from 
those who know more than I dew, and trying tew teach 
those who know less.” 

“ Oh, did you hear, daddy? Isn’t that delightful — 
and such a good rule for any one tew follow. And naow 
that you’ve told me what , won’t you tell me who you 
are, dear? ” 

“ I’m Omie Gayheart — Virgil Gayheart’s sister. 
And this is his wife, Camille.” 

“ ‘ Gayheart ’? What a sweet name, and you look 
as though you lived up tew it, too. Did you ever hear 
a quotation from a famous English poet named Shake¬ 
speare, ‘ What’s in a name? ’ And I remember yours, 
naow. The article that I read told abaout your 
brother’s part in faounding the school; but it had even 
more tew say abaout a Mrs. McDonald, from Boston, 



MORE UNEXPECTED GUESTS 67 


who seems tew have been nicknamed ‘ Smiles.’ I’m 
sure I should just love tew meet her.” 

“ I just wish that you could — might, I mean. She’s 
wonderful! ” exclaimed Omie, her own enthusiasm for 
* Smiles ’ rekindled by their visitor’s apparent eager¬ 
ness. Camille nodded a shy, but happy, agreement. 

“ Then she isn’t hyar, naow? ” disappointedly. 

“ No. They’ve gone home. Her husband is a famous 
surgeon, you know, who was daown hyar getting well.” 

“ Oh, I’m so sorry tew have missed them — isn’t it 
a shame, daddy? And so you-all are left alone with 
your romantic experiment hyar in the maountains, 
dear? ” 

“ But it isn’t an experiment, any more. This is 
vacation; but, when we start again, other helpers are 
coming daown from the North, and several of aour 
maountain boys are already trained tew help carry on 
the work. Of course, we’re still experimenting tew find 
aout what kind of training brings the best results, 
but —” 1 

“ But you’re actually functioning.” The other an¬ 
ticipated the conclusion, and added, “ It’s really splen¬ 
did. And I suppose that all these neat, attractive 
buildings are your combined workshop and experiment 
station. You’ll take us all through them, and explain 
everything tew us while we’re hyar, won’t you, dear? ” 

“ I should love tew, Miss — ? ” 

“ Miss Clayton. My father is Congressman Clay¬ 
ton; your Representative at Washington, you know.” 
“ Oh! ” 

Omie’s eyes opened wider and a flush of sudden em¬ 
barrassment flooded her cheeks. But the Honorable H. 
Clay Clayton’s acknowledgment of this informal in¬ 
troduction was so simple and friendly — he raised his 
hat and extended his hand in such a cordial manner — 



68 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


that both girls were immediately set at ease. Long 
practice in politics makes for affability towards men 
and women, old and young, alike — it is an effective 
asset, and by no means to be condemned on that ac¬ 
count. Quite on the contrary, for the form, oft re¬ 
peated, sometimes creates the spirit of friendliness. 

Miss Clayton urged her father to join in the explor¬ 
ing party; but he excused himself on the plea of want¬ 
ing to chat with “ Mr. Gayheart,” whom he had seen 
climbing the path, after unsaddling the horses and 
leaving them in the barn with a generous measure of 
oats apiece. 

While the three girls were inspecting the executive 
office, within the House of Happiness; the House of 
Service, with its hand looms for the weaving of old- 
fashioned “ kivverlids,” its basketry work, its printing- 
press— on which the only newspaper in the County 
was printed — multigraphing machine and carpenter 
shop; the library, with its swelling stacks; the up-to- 
date school house; the various small dormitories; the 
House of Hunger, with its immaculate kitchen, where 
the girls were taught domestic science, the two men 
fell into conversation without the formality of an in¬ 
troduction. Virgil had long since abandoned the second 
mountain formula, “ And what mought your name and 
business be, stranger? ” 

His caller took the lead with a few pointed questions 
as to aims and methods; but, after a moment, he broke 
off, in the middle of a comment to say, “ Er . . . by 
the way, I reckon I got a little damper than I thought, 
and I wonder if you’ve a few draps of the ‘ maountain 
dew/ for which this locality used tew be famous, abaout 
the premises? I occasionally take a little — ahem — 
as medicine, for my circulation’s rather bad.” 

Virgil apologized. 




MORE UNEXPECTED GUESTS 69 


“ Sorry, but there isn’t a ‘ drap ’ on the place. We 
live strictly according tew Volstead, hyar; although it’s 
‘Smiles’ ’ law rather than Uncle Sam’s. You may 
have heard of 6 Smiles’— aour Mrs. McDonald.” 

“Yes, indeed. I’ve heard considerable abaout your 
place. It saounded like romantic fiction, but seems 
tew be fact. You’re tew be congratulated. A fine 
work, and I’m right glad tew find that some one is 
tackling the problem of maountain education so in¬ 
telligently. I was in the State Legislature when the 
‘ Moonlight Schools ’ were established, and so learned 
a good deal about conditions. Er — we’ll forget abaout 
the — er — medicine. I reckon I don’t really need it, 
son.” 

“ Some hot coffee’ll dew the trick, I reckon. Which 
reminds me that I’ve got tew tell maw—” the habit 
of childhood still persisted —“ tew set on a couple of 
extra plates. We don’t go in for style, but you’re more 
than welcome tew aour simple table, Mr. — ? ” 

“ Clayton’s my name.” 

The others had just returned, and Omie slipped be¬ 
hind her brother and said in a whisper meant for his 
ear alone, but which was generally audible, “It’s 
Congressman Clayton, Virge.” 

“ Is that so! ” exclaimed the recipient of the momen¬ 
tous news, thereby causing a laugh. “ Well, we’re 
more’n glad tew have you with us, Congressman.” 

His sister regarded him with new pride, he seemed 
so entirely unabashed in the presence of The Great. 

The conversation was terminated by the welcome 
sound of the dinner bell and the visitors were led, has¬ 
tening through the rain, to the House of Hunger, there 
to be greeted by Mrs. Gayheart, and, while the rest 
were being seated, Camille excused herself in order to 
prepare a tray for her “ patient,” 



70 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Why, is there a sick person, hyar? ” inquired Miss 
Clayton, her voice sympathetic. 

An explanation followed and when the name of the 
injured man was mentioned the Congressman inter¬ 
rupted with the exclamation, “What! Abe Blount? 
And shot, cutting up a still? ” 

“ So you know Abe? ” said his host. 

“ Know him? Know Abe Blount! * Well, I should 
rather think I did. He’s a live wire — a remarkable 
man.” Virgil shot a triumphant glance at his sister. 
“ And he put in a lot of effective work for me —‘ the 
party/ I should say, at the last election. I’ve cer¬ 
tainly got tew drop in and have a chat with him before 
we go, if he’s able to receive callers.” 

“ Oh, I want tew meet him, too,” cried his daughter. 
“ I believe that he gets his name in the newspapers 
even more than father does, and he must be a terribly 
romantic person.” 

For no reason which she could have explained, Omie’s 
heart experienced a sudden tug, and she was instantly 
angry with herself. Why shouldn’t Miss Clayton be 
interested in their local celebrity? And of course Abe 
Blount would naturally be pleased to receive a visit 
from such a lovely, fascinating, city-bred young lady. 
Beside, why should she care, one way or the other? 

Omie’s thoughts were interrupted by a low-spoken 
word from Virgil: she bowed her head and began the 
familiar blessing, during the recital of which Miss 
Clayton’s shapely lips might have been seen to twitch, 
ever so slightly. The Honorable Mr. Clayton sat with 
hands clasped and eyes bent towards his plate. 

“Amen,” said Omie. 

“ A-hem,” said the Congressman. “ Yes, I must 
certainly have a chat with Abe Blount.” 



CHAPTER VII 


POLITICS AND PLATFORMS 

“ Hello there, Abe Blount! ” 

“ Well, I’m — blessed. Haowdy, yourself, Clayton. 
Haow’d you come tew get lost up in this neck of the 
woods? ” 

“ The same tew you.” 

“ Oh, c I didn’t come tew get lost, I come on busi¬ 
ness,’ as the old nigger mammy said. But I’m staying 
for pleasure.” Abe smiled at his hosts, especially Omie, 
for, their dinner ended, all of the party had repaired 
to the hospital room where the wounded man lay. 

“ You needn’t tell me abaout it, if modesty prevents; 
I’ve heard the whole story already. I’m on a so-called 
pleasure trip, predicated on business, too — owned a 
few hundred acres of coal land up on the next creek 
most of my life and never laid eyes on it until to-day. 
The Iron Mountain Company made me an offer for it, 
recently, and my daughter insisted that nothing would 
dew but we must don boots and spurs, ride up hyar 
and look the lay-aout over. By the way, this is the 
cause of all my gray hairs, my daughter, Miss Marion 
Clayton, Sheriff Blount. Dew you blame me for tak¬ 
ing orders from her? ” 

“ Not by a jugful. Reckon any man would be praoud 
and happy tew dew the same.” 

The transforming smile accompanied Abe’s hearty 
response, and he extended his huge hand to the girl. 
Miss Clayton had already bowed in acknowledgment 
of the introduction, swiftly composing her face which 
71 


72 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


had been a study from the moment she passed the door 
and had caught sight of the man stretched out on the 
cot. For once she had found herself temporarily at a 
loss for words. She had been surprised, almost 
shocked; but training had enabled her to dissemble 
reasonably well. Her poise had returned quickly, and 
her conventional, smiling mask had been resumed; but 
Omie’s sharp eyes had observed the momentary start, 
and she, forgetful of her own earlier sensations, had 
felt her heart burning with resentment. And now her 
indignation increased, but was directed against Abe 
Blount. How had he dared to make fun of her by say¬ 
ing that he was afraid of women and did not know how 
to talk with them? He certainly showed no bashful¬ 
ness before Miss Clayton, and his words concerning 
her had been glib and flattering enough! 

For her part, Marion Clayton hesitated for an in¬ 
stant before taking the proffered hand. Then she 
smiled, frankly, overlooking the breach of social eti¬ 
quette— of course an uncultured mountaineer would 
not know anything about its dictates! — and her slen¬ 
der fingers were laid upon the man’s big hand, although 
they barely extended from one side of the palm to the 
other. 

Abe’s own friendly smile broadened. 

“ It is more like a ham than a hand, Miss Clayton,” 
he remarked, quizzically. 

“ Ah, but I just adore big men,” was her gay reply. 
“ And so this is aour ‘ Demon Destroyer of Stills ’ ? 
I’ve heard such wonderful things abaout you that I’ve 
been simply dying tew meet you, Mr. Blount.” 

“Well, here I am; look me over! I once knew a 
lawyer who won a big case on the strength of saying 
that, Clayton. He came from Louisville, and his coun¬ 
try opponent was vastly mpressed and Stressed by 



POLITICS AND PLATFORMS 


73 


the fact that he’d got tew try against a man with such a 
reputation. Well, in his opening tew the jury he dwelt 
at length upon the other’s great ability, and got the 
jurors all haired up abaout it, and filled with awe. 
When it came the city man’s turn tew address ’em, he 
strode up tew the rail, stuck his thumbs intew the arm¬ 
holes of his vest, threw aout his chest and exclaimed, 

‘ Well, gentlemen, hyar I am! * He had ’em, from that 
moment.” 

“ Bet you were the fellow, Abe,” declared the Con¬ 
gressman. 

“I? Not much — I’m too doggone modest.” 

Clayton laughed immoderately, and thrust a finger 
into Abe’s ribs. 

“ Well, what’s this I hear abaout your £ gittin’ your¬ 
self shotted,’ as you maountaineers say? Was it a 
frame-up, for political purposes? Of course it’s cer¬ 
tain sure tew result in a wave of righteous indignation 
and sympathy for you; for the pencil toters’ll 
make copy aout of it, and write you up again, more the 
hero than ever. I never knew such a man for keep¬ 
ing the spot-light centered on himself — I know I can’t 
succeed in dewing it.” 

“ Naturally it distresses me beyond the paower of 
words tew express.” Abe’s gray eyes continued to 
twinkle. “ It’s one of the drawbacks tew seeking pub¬ 
lic office. We have tew go to almost any lengths tew 
keep aourself in the public eye, even tew sticking aour 
feet in front of a rifle bullet.” 

“ I see you’ve got the right idea, Abe. The office 
should theoretically seek the man, but —” 

“ But he ought tew holler aout, ‘ Yo-ho ’ from his 
place of concealment, naow and then? ” 

“ Exactly.” 

“ I think it’s perfectly horrid of you tew make a joke 



74 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


of such a serious matter, father,” broke in Miss Clay¬ 
ton. “ How is the wound getting along, Mr. Blount?” 

“ Getting along fine, thanks. You see, my foot’s in 
good hands. I’ve got the best nurse in these hyar 
maountains, if not in the world.” 

He smiled at Camille, who was keeping herself well 
in the background. 

“ And haow abaout your other chief concern, the 
campaign? I hear you’re aout for State’s Attorney, 
naow. Is that in good hands, too, while you’re laid 
up? ” the Congressman resumed his interrogation. 

“ Yes. Of course daoubtful things are always un¬ 
certain; but it looks pretty good, thanks tew what 
three persons have already accomplished in my be¬ 
half.” 

“ Three, eh? That’s more campaign managers than 
I can get. Who are they? ” 

“ Well, Preacher Billy, who lives near hyar, and 
helped bring me up, is one. Another is a maountain 
woman who moved daown tew Fayville and opened up 
an eating place of sorts, some years ago, there. And 
the third is the Honorable Jonathan Fess.” 

“ What, not the present encumbent? Why, I 
thought that he was a candidate for reelection and 
that you were aout tew unseat him.” 

“ Which air a fact,” drawled Abe, whimsically. 
“ Just the same, he’s my best card, for he tried tew 
play both ends against the middle, and stand in with 
everybody—law-makers and law-breakers, alike. As 
far as I can find aout he didn’t succeed in making any 
particular friends dewing it, but he made plenty of 
enemies, on both sides of the fence. You know what 
happened tew the man who tried tew sit on two stools 
at the same time.” 



POLITICS AND PLATFORMS 75 


“ I see. Still, I should think that you’d have the 
moonshiners and their friends solid against you, in any 
case, and—” 

“ I don’t guess that Jonathan can caount too heavily 
pn that. A right smart number of my constituents 
have an idea that I’d be less of a nuisance in the new 
job than loose tew go chasing araound these hills look¬ 
ing for trouble — or making it.” 

“ Besides,” interpolated Virgil, “ aour maountain 
people admire honesty and pluck, even when they’re on 
the other side, and we’re all mighty praoud of Abe 
Blount.” 

Miss Clayton clapped her hands softly, and her 
father said, “ That’s the stuff. Well, so much for one 
of your campaign managers. What abaout this maoun¬ 
tain cafe keeper? Dew you make her hashery your 
headquarters, or have you discovered that the way to a 
voter’s heart is through his stomach? ” 

“ Neither. Jonathan was really responsible for her 
climbing on my band wagon, too, and I’m right sorry 
for him, I sure am. Heaven help the man — especially 
a political candidate — who runs a-faoul of Aunt 
Phronie’s tongue. You see, he opened his campaign in 
Fayville and had the bad luck — or bad judgment, as 
is more often the case — tew go intew her eating place 
for a bite. The poor cuss had indigestion and he or¬ 
dered weak tea and poached eggs, soft , on milk toast. 
Well—” 

The rest of the story was lost in a gale of laughter, 
for all of them could imagine how such an order, from 
one who sought to be elected chief law enforcer in that 
county, would have struck a woman of the mountains, 
whose bill-of-fare consisted primarily of black coffee, 
corn pone, fried hog and hominy. Abe did not add 



76 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


that Aunt Phronie had nicknamed the unfortunate 
Mr. Fess “ the soft-drapped egg ”— a title which had 
been duly broadcast through the region. 

“As for Preacher Billy, he’s a character and you 
ought tew meet him sometime, Clayton. He — well, 
he sort of pushed me intew the pond.” 

“ Hmm. Saounds as though there might be a story 
in that, too. Don’t try tew hold aout on us, Abe 
Blount.” 

“ Oh, it wasn’t anything tew speak of. He started 
the ball a-rolling, on his own hook — made a speech 
and uncorked some of that picturesque fiction that 
preachers make use of, occasionally. It sort of ‘ tuck 
hold ’ up hyar — we maountaineers are simple folk and 
tickled with a straw, you know. I didn’t know but 
what you read it, for it got printed in the papers, 
and —” 

“ No, I missed it, I reckon. But I’ll hear it naow.” 

“ Not much, you won’t.” 

“ Yes, he will,” broke in Virgil; “ for, if Abe’s too 
modest tew tell it, I’m going tew. I didn’t hear Billy’s 
speech — worse luck, because, although he hasn’t much 
1 book-larnin’ ’ he can sure put words together when he 
gets started — but I read the story in the paper. It 
happened on the opening day of the spring session of 
the Circuit Court, which you probably know is always 
devoted to politics, Congressman. It’s aour famous 
‘ swapping-day,’ too, and the newspaper had sent a 
man to write it up as a picturesque maountain custom. 
He fell hard for aour Preacher Billy, whom he called a 
forceful, born orator, and he quoted him as having said 
something like this: ‘ Evil had growed up in these hyar 
hills ’til hit war a giant like untew Goliath, the terribul 
champeen uv the army uv the Philistines that the Book 
tells us abaout. Hit war a-shaoutin’ aout a challenge 




POLITICS AND PLATFORMS 


77 


tew the forces uv Law and Righteousness, and war 
a-mockin’ ’em. And then thar riz up in aour midst 
another David. The Bible David war uv the seed uv 
Abraham, but this war an Abraham, hisself. A sling¬ 
shot war in his mighty hand — the rock uv the Law. 
You all knows him, aour Sheriff, Abe Blount. With 
that rock he has already stunned the Goliath uv In¬ 
iquity. But he hain’t slain hit, as yet, whatever. Hit’s 
evil body encumbers aour land. Come naow. Let us 
stand with Abe, aour David. Let us put in his paower- 
ful hands the two-edged sword of Justice, so thet he 
may slay the giant, altogether! ” 

The spirit of raconteur in Virgil rose to the occasion, 
and he spoke movingly. Omie experienced a strange 
thrill at the words, which was intensified by the sudden 
recollection that Abe Blount, as a small boy, had sworn 
to Billy that he would grow up to be “ a David.” And 
now his preceptor had publicly bestowed that name 
upon him! The other hearers were also stirred, in 
varying degrees. The story carried an analogy which 
could be understood by any one who had read the Old 
Testament, and it appealed to the imagination. 

But Abe broke in with a loud guffaw, in part, no 
doubt, to cover his embarrassment. 

“ I’m a fine one tew be likened tew ‘ little David,’ 
ain’t I? ” he demanded, an awkward gesture calling at¬ 
tention to his massive form. 

Marion Clayton answered. 

“ Size is always a matter of relativity, Mr. Blount. 
/ think that Preacher Billy’s comparison was perfect, 
as well as picturesque, and from naow on I’m going tew 
think of you as the chosen champion of law and order 
in these hills.” 

“ Well, that’s sure kind of you, Miss Clayton. Only 
I haven’t been chosen, yet.” 



78 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Oh, you’re going tew be. And I want Mr. State’s 
Attorney Blount to come and pay us a visit when he’s 
in Cumberland City. Please promise.” 

“ I should love tew.” 

“ Fine. Marion merely beat me tew it, in issuing 
the invitation. But then, she generally does, and it’s 
more official coming from her, for she’s the real boss 
of the household. I sometimes talk large, in public, 
but I’m pretty small potatoes at home, and don’t dare 
tew ask any one there withaout first getting the ap¬ 
proval of the boss,” said the Congressman. 

The Congressman’s daughter declared this to be false 
and slanderous; but it was reaffirmed, and for some 
minutes the conversation became general and was car¬ 
ried on in a lighter vein. 

But the politician eventually reverted to the subject 
of politics, by asking, “ Just why dew you want the 
job of State’s Attorney, Abe? Of course it may be a 
stepping stone, but—” 

“ No. I’m not thinking of going intew politics seri¬ 
ously. I rather hope it may be a corner -stone in build¬ 
ing up my legal practice. It’ll be good training —” 

“ And advertising! ” 

“ Maybe; that depends. It might work the other 
way. Sometimes I think that I’m a fool not tew go 
back into private practice right away, but there are — 
well, certain other considerations. As I look at it, a 
man can’t always follow his own inclinations; at least, 
not if he’s troubled with a civic conscience — I’m not 
saying anything abaout my personal one.” 

“ Of course; the least said on that score the better,” 
laughed Mr. Clayton. “ Am I right? ” 

“ c You’re blanked right, you’re right! ’ as Bill Cress 
says, with one variation. Seriously speaking, though, 
conditions are pretty bad in these parts; a heavy hand 



POLITICS AND PLATFORMS 


79 


is needed tew enforce the law hyar and I’ve modestly 
decided that I’m the best of a poor lot available tew 
dew it. It isn’t merely a question of moonshining, or 
general lawlessness — they’re both nation-wide, naow- 
a-days. But there’s another sort of trouble being 
brewed in these hills, and it strikes deeper than either 
of the others.” 

“ Is that so? What is it? ” 

“You know haow the coal mines are being pushed 
steadily further and further intew these maoun- 
tains . . .” 

“ And you think there’ll be more strikes? ” 

“ Baound tew be! But that isn’t what I had in 
mind, altogether. Of course if I get elected State’s 
Attorney I might have tew take a hand in them , for 
there’d likely be criminal cases growing aout of them, 
which I’d have tew prosecute — and I wouldn’t love tew 
dew it, since I’ve got considerable sympathy for the 
miners. I was one, myself, for a few months, you 
know, and realize something abaout haow tough their 
lives are.” 

“ Oh, of course. But lives and property rights are 
sacred and have got tew be protected.” 

“ Certain sure. When my sympathies and the law 
get in conflict, the law has the right of way, although I 
like tew see justice based on understanding, and tem¬ 
pered with a reasonable amaount of mercy. But what 
I had in mind was something different and more dan¬ 
gerous than strikes. A good many of the miners are 
riffraff from Southern Europe, and chocked plumb full 
of socialistic and anarchistic ideas — Bolshevists. 
There are plenty of I.W.W.’s among them and they’ve 
already got a systematic campaign started tew poison 
the minds of us maountaineers. It’s easy, too, for a lot 
of them are getting jobs in the mines, naow.” 



80 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ I’ve heard rumors of something of the sort, but 
haven’t taken them very seriously,” remarked Clay¬ 
ton. 

“ Well, it’s abaout time that folks did, including you 
fellows daown in Washington. The situation holds a 
menace which may become more than local; it may be 
national 

As he continued to talk, Abe’s manner underwent a 
subtle alteration. A new, intense light came into his 
eyes; his voice remained low, but it took on a new tim¬ 
bre, losing its conversational tone and growing force¬ 
ful, as though the walls of the little room had been 
pushed back and his audience multiplied a hundred¬ 
fold. Still, he was not excited and his manner was 
rather judicial than argumentative. 

“ Hyar’s the case in a nutshell; I’ve put some time 
in tew studying it. You don’t have tew be told what the 
Coal Operators did in these maountains in years past, 
and are still dewing tew some extent, although I reckon 
that they’ve made you a fair offer for your property. 
It’s common knowledge haow they sent their agents in 
hyar and bought up the land for a song — or the min¬ 
eral rights in it, which amaounts tew the same thing. 
Aour maountain people were wholly illiterate and had 
no knowledge of the value of money. Tew the Opera¬ 
tors it was strictly a matter of business, and it was 
‘ good business ’ tew buy as cheaply as possible. But 
what seems like ‘ good business ’ to-day may prove tew 
be something entirely different, to-morrow, as they’re 
beginning tew find aout. It depends on what sort of 
bread you cast upon the waters! 

“ There were plenty of cases where they bought these 
maountain-sides for as low as a dollar an acre — yes, 
for twenty-five cents an acre, although in one instance 



POLITICS AND PLATFORMS 


81 


the Courts set that sale aside on the graounds of no real 
consideration. Take my own family’s case, for a con¬ 
crete example. My grandma was left a widow and 
all her possessions were the cabin and five hundred 
acres of maountain land behind it. There was a big 
family tew support, and in those days a dollar looked 
the size of a haouse, hyar-abaouts. One day up rode 
the smooth-tongued representative of a certain coal 
company whose engineers had discovered that that par¬ 
ticular hill was rich in deposits of abaout the best high 
volatile bituminous coal in the world. He offered grand¬ 
ma five hundred dollars in cold cash for those five 
hundred maountain-side acres of hers, generously 
granting her the privilege of retaining the homestead 
cabin and of digging what coal she needed for the 
family use, during her lifetime, but forgetting tew in¬ 
form her that these provisions would lapse with her 
death, and of course she couldn’t read the deed of sale. 
Well, put yourselves in her place, if you can. She did 
the natural thing, took the seeming fortune and made 
her mark at the foot of the agreement.” 

At this point in his story Abe was interrupted by 
varying exclamations of an indignant nature, but he 
disregarded them and went quietly on. 

“ Last year I became pretty well acquainted, by 
chance, with an engineer employed by the same cor¬ 
poration that is naow working that hillside — I’ll tell 
you in confidence that it’s the Iron Maountain Mine — 
and I pumped him a bit, aout of idle curiosity, as tew 
the probable value of the coal contained in my ances¬ 
tral acres, dug aout and ready tew be shipped. I was 
going tew let you guess, but I won’t. He said that they 
estimated that the vein would average a depth of six 
feet and should yield over three million tons. Coal of 



82 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


that grade is worth something better than $ 1 . 25 , f.o.b. 
at the minehead and, well, you-all can dew your own 
figuring.” 

Again his hearers broke in with sympathetic or angry 
comments, but Abe listened to them in silence, and 
when he resumed his story it was with no change in 
tone or manner. 

“ Of course the figure wouldn’t represent profit on it, 
that might be but a few cents per ton; but if her 
descendants still owned the property and got a royalty 
of from fifteen tew twenty cents a ton aout of it, it 
would eventually bring them in something like three- 
quarters of a million dollars. And grandma, through 
her ignorance of its potential value — of any value, in¬ 
deed — was inveigled intew parting with it for five hun¬ 
dred! 

“ Naow, that’s only a sample case. The same thing 
has happened time and again, and plenty of the de¬ 
scendants of those who jumped at the shiny bait, and 
got hooked, aren’t inclined tew be as philosophical 
abaout it as I am, naow that they’re finally waking up 
tew the fact that their paws and maws were exploited 
and, through ignorance, sold their birthright for a ‘ pot 
of message,’ as Billy said in telling the story of Esau. 
We’re Anglo-Saxon, you know. 

“ Well, that’ll give you an idea of the sort of a field 
that is ready tew be sowed, hyar; it’s already plaowed 
and harrowed for the sort of seed these foreign social¬ 
ists and Independent Workers of the World are begin¬ 
ning tew scatter. Haven’t you ever heard of ‘ Dago 
Lemos ’ and his preachings? God knows, we’re most of 
us still primitive and ignorant enough, and easily 
araoused by any appeal tew aour passions, like this, 
for example: ‘ These greedy, soulless corporations have 
plumb stolen your lands from you; robbed you of your 



POLITICS AND PLATFORMS 


83 


birthright! They are big and paowerful, and the law is 
on their side because they control its processes through 
political pressure and bribery. You are helpless be¬ 
cause you don’t fight together; but just unite and join 
with us, brother, and we’ll form a new party in these 
maountains, one so strong that it’ll be invincible. 
We’ll name aour own candidates, and elect them — 
first the minor caounty officers, then those of the 
State and Nation, and at last we’ll overthrow this rot¬ 
ten Government. “ Rotten Government? ” Yes! 
What has it ever done for you, but rob you of your 
rights with its Revenuers? You’ve been the victims of 
a Government which allaows and encourages robbery 
by the rich; but just unite with us and we’ll give you 
back freedom and the land that is rightfully yours.’ ” 

“ But that’s daownright anarchy! ” cried the Con¬ 
gressman, his face red with righteous indignation. 

“ Sure it is; but it’s not just one of my pipe dreams; 
it’s a fact. Haven’t they already tried to elect some 
of their candidates, and come pretty darned near dew¬ 
ing it?” 

“ Yes. But I had no idea that there was so much 
behind it.” 

“ Well, there is, Clay. You can take my say-so for 
it. It isn’t as though we maountain people were a 
negligible number — a scattering handful of illiterates, 
as the big majority of folks in America probably think. 
There are pretty nigh ontew five million of us living 
in the highlands of these five States, and half of us un¬ 
educated, hot-tempered and ready for mischief. If the 
people of the United States would only wake up tew 
that fact, they might realize that right hyar is an almost 
untapped reservoir of the only pure Anglo-Saxon blood 
in the country, which would come in mighty handy in 
strengthening up the national blood-stream. Heaven 




84 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


knows it’s badly enough diluted, naow. But it won’t 
be worth much if it’s left alone tew get more and more 
stagnant, and these fellows are allaowed tew pollute it 
with their Bolshevism. If that fully happens, Clay, 
there’s going tew be hell tew pay hyar, one of these 
days. 

“ Of course the only real antidote is education, espe¬ 
cially in the real meaning of citizenship. But that’s 
being handed aout in mighty small doses, so far. And, 
until schools like this one at Smiling Pass can be multi¬ 
plied a thousand times, the only thing tew hold the 
situation in check is the Law. 

“ I reckon that’s why I’m running for office, naow. 
I want tew dew my bit tew save my own people from 
this sort of aoutside lawlessness, as well as the lawless¬ 
ness within themselves. And that’s a-plenty.” 



CHAPTER VIII 


THE BROADENING HORIZON 

During the latter part of this recital Congressman 
Clayton had remained leaning forward, and he had 
played nervously with his heavy gold watch chain as he 
listened. Interest and astonishment had mounted 
steadily, and their mingled expression upon his florid 
countenance was reflected on the faces of the others, in 
different degrees. Omie observed it with a sense of 
pride, newly born. After all, the man who had asked 
her to be her friend was, as Virgil had said, different 
from other men. There seemed to be as many sides to 
his character as facets to a diamond, yet they were 
really no more conflicting in his case than in that of the 
stone. Each merely supplemented the others. One 
never knew which was next to catch the light, and flash 
or glow. And his outward appearance, so crude and 
unprepossessing on first sight, added to his interesting¬ 
ness, for his real self, as disclosed by his talk, was made 
the more remarkable by contrast. 

When Abe abruptly ended his remarks, the Congress¬ 
man brought his hand down on his stocky leg with a 
resounding whack. 

“ Well, by Jingo, I knew that you were an aout-of- 
the-ordinary cuss, Abe Blount, but you run deeper than 
I thought. YouVe made aout your case — ‘ sold ’ me. 
I hadn’t begun tew realize that the situation was actu¬ 
ally that bad, or that the office of State’s Attorney in 
this particular caounty could hold such potentialities. 
I’ve always looked on it as a sort of cut-and-dried post, 
all right for a young man trying tew make a reputation 
85 


86 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


as a lawyer, but not worth bothering abaout, politically. 
After all, it is the man that makes the office and not 
vice versa. What you propose, by inference, tew dew 
with it will take nerve; but I reckon that we needn’t 
dew much worrying on that score. I’m with you. Yes, 
sir, you can caount on my help in this fight. It prob¬ 
ably isn’t worth as much in these parts as your Preacher 
Billy’s or Aunt Phronie’s, but it ought tew be worth a 
good many votes in the few taowns of the Caounty.” 

“ Why, I’m much obliged tew you, Clay,” responded 
the Sheriff, with a quick return to his easy, conversa¬ 
tional manner. “ I reckon I can dew with all the extra 
ones that come my way. Awhile ago I said something 
abaout not being much worried over the outcome, but 
any man who’s candidate for an elective office, and gets 
it intew his head that the apple is going tew fall right 
intew his hands withaout his even giving the tree a 
shake, is more likely tew get it in the neck” 

“ Right! Still, assuming that you’re elected—” 

“ Better make that ‘ if ’ I’m elected,” Abe corrected. 

“ Oh, I guess that the assumption is a reasonable one; 
you’re not the type of man tew indulge in ephemeral 
dreams. What I started aout tew say was, if you 
make the same sort of a reputation for yourself as 
State’s Attorney as you have as Sheriff you’re going 
tew be more’n a local celebrity — I shouldn’t wonder if 
you had a State-wide reputation, and then there’ll be 
no holding you daown, if you keep your head and play 
the game. The ‘ dear peepul ’ love tew have a pictur¬ 
esque figure, like you, tew vote for.” 

“ Picturesqueness rather than ability is the prerequi¬ 
site, then? ” 

The Congressman smiled. 

“ That’s a debatable point. Once I might have said 
‘yes,’ withaout hesitation; but the day when the In- 



THE BROADENING HORIZON 87 


terests picked the candidates — the ‘ safe and sane ’ 
men, from their standpoint, and if they tickled the 
people so much the better — and put them across regu¬ 
larly, is ended — er — fortunately. Joking aside, 
though, it strikes me that you’ve got certain characteris¬ 
tics which may land you fairly high up, politically, even 
in the Governor’s seat one of these days, Abe.” 

His daughter nodded an enthusiastic agreement, 
whereupon Omie experienced the same thrill of excite¬ 
ment which had passed through her several times that 
day. 

But the object of these flattering prophecies merely 
grinned and drawled, “ Looking ahead pretty far, ain’t 
you, Clay? Reminds me of the yarn abaout the Hebrew 
family and the imaginary automobile. Reckon you’ve 
heard it, but it’s sort of apropos, and maybe the others 
haven’t. We don’t have many motor cars or jokes 
abaout ’em along these hyar maountain creeks. I 
once heard Uncle Bije say, 4 I’ve heerd tell uv them 
thar auty&eemoles, but I hain’t never seed one.’ ” 

Marion demanded the story and Abe said, “ One eve¬ 
ning, Ikey annaounced that he was thinking some of 
buying a second-hand flivver, someday, maybe, per¬ 
haps, and the family started making plans abaout it. 
‘ I’m going tew sit on the front seat, mit mein fadder,’ 
declared little Ikey. ‘ No, mein child,’ his mother re¬ 
plied, ‘ you vill sit on the back seat, mit me.’ ‘ But I 
vant tew sit on the front seat! ’ insisted the boy, be¬ 
ginning tew blubber. 6 Naow, Ikey . . .’ ‘I vill sit 
on the front seat! ’ he shrieked, and his father grabbed 
him by the arm, saying sternly, 1 Ikey, you naughty 
boy, you get righd aoudt of this automobile.’ ” 

The story got more laughter than would have been 
accorded it by a group of city people, but Abe was 
serious again when he went on, “ I meant it when I 




88 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


said I wasn’t thinking of going intew politics, regularly; 
but I wouldn’t mind being Governor of Cumberland 
for a term or two, if you can arrange it for me con¬ 
veniently, Clay. Seriously, if some man who really 
understood us maountaineers and aour problems could 
get himself elected tew that exalted office, he could dew 
a lot towards bettering conditions hyar, by influencing 
public opinion and legislation. Haowever, I don’t guess 
that I’ll order a suit of clothes for the inaugural, yet. 
I’ve got pretty long legs, but it’s some step from the 
office of State’s Attorney of a backwood caounty tew 
the Governorship of the State of Cumberland — and I 
haven’t landed the first job, at the date of these pres¬ 
ents.” 

“ I thought we’d got that all settled,” said the Con¬ 
gressman. “ I may have suggested a long step, but I 
also remarked, awhile ago, that the first office may 
be made a political stepping-stone. Only, take the 
advice of an old-timer, and don’t linger in it too long. 
There’ll always be plenty of uncompleted work tew be 
done, and if you show a willingness tew tackle its prob¬ 
lems and make good dewing it, there’ll be plenty of 
people who’ll expect you tew keep on and on, walking 
the same old treadmill, and who’ll be the first tew 
set up a haowl that you’re committing an almost 
criminal act when you aspire to some position offering 
broader opportunities.” 

“ Or think that you’ve received a higher call,” 
amended Abe, with a grin. 

“ I stand corrected; of course that’s haow I should 
have put it, there being voters present. You’ve got 
the makings of a pol, all right. Still, mine is good ad¬ 
vice. The longer a man allaows himself to be kept in 
a subordinate position, the harder it will be for him 
tew secure a superior one. Let’s see haow things go 



THE BROADENING HORIZON 89 


during the next year. If you dew what I expect, and 
tear this Caounty wide open, I wouldn’t be surprised 
if you’d be the logical man tew succeed me in Con¬ 
gress, as Representative from the Twelfth District. 
From that office the Governorship isn’t so far away.” 

“ Meaning that you have thoughts of — ? ” 

“ On the contrary, I’ve abaout made up my mind 
tew bring my political life tew a close — although that 
isn’t for publication. I’ve got abaout ‘ fed up,’ and in 
my opinion three terms in Congress is enough for any 
man. It takes at least a year there tew get accli¬ 
mated, so tew speak, and become of any real value, 
so a Representative actually owes it tew his constit¬ 
uents tew serve at least a second term, if they’ll elect 
him. But I’ve done my share; I’m not ashamed of 
my record, and I’m ready tew give a final accaounting 
and surrender my trust intew other hands,” said Mr. 
Clayton, with perhaps pardonable pomposity. And 
he added, “ Besides, the job has pretty nearly made 
a bankrupt of me, and if I’m tew rebuild my law 
practice and leave a few dollars, instead of debts, tew 
this daughter of mine, it’s high time I was starting. 
A bachelor of simple tastes can get by in Washing¬ 
ton, and even save a little of his salary; but a man 
with a family with some social inclinations finds 
seventy-five hundred dollars too little by a lot, even 
with the perquisites added.” 

“ £ Perquisites? ’ ” echoed Abe, inquiringly. 

“ Oh, I didn’t mean anything insidious. The good 
old days when the ways were greased, frequently, 
are over. But there are certain entirely legal and 
customary ‘ extras ’ — allowances of one kind or 
another, which you’ll learn abaout when you get there. 
I know that I spent all that was coming tew me, and 
more, each year, with only one wife and one child 



90 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


tew help me, and the Lord only knows haow some of 
my colleagues, who have large families, get by, unless 
they have independent means.” 

“Listen tew him, friends! ” exclaimed Abe, screw¬ 
ing his face up comically. “ He doesn’t know haow 
men with large families get by on seven thousand, 
five hundred per — with perquisites . Wonder haow 
he thinks we maountaineers succeed in raising a dozen 
or more youngsters on a salary of nothing a year? 
By the way, Miss Clayton, dew you know why we 
maountaineers have such big families? ” 

“ I don’t guess so, unless it’s because you love chil¬ 
dren more than most people.” 

“ Well, naow, that’s a much prettier reason than 
the one I once heard an old fellow over tew Bear’s 
Maouth Creek give an inquisitive ‘ furriner,’ one day. 
Said he, 4 We-uns hev big famblies bekaise we hev 
tew in order tew git a fair sprinklin’ uv boys. Then 
some uv ’em will dew a leetle work, kaise they loves 
their maw; some’ll dew a leetle, kaise they fears their 
paw; and some a leetle, kaise they hain’t got no bet¬ 
ter sense. And ’twixt them all dewin’ a leetle, and 
me and their maw dewin’ a h—1 uv a lot, we manages 
tew git along.” 

“That’s the ultimate word! ” cried the Congress¬ 
man, rising. “ Abe’s a hopelessly confirmed story¬ 
teller— almost as bad in that respect as the still 
more famous bearer of the name was — and I’ve got 
tew get my unsophisticated daughter aout of hyar 
before he tells one worse than that. Besides, it’s high 
time that we were on aour way, if we’re going tew 
reach home to-night. And I see that the rain has 
stopped.” 

Marion Clayton also arose, real regret at leaving 
depicted upon her vivacious face. The whole ex- 



THE BROADENING HORIZON 91 


perience had been a novel one and its very simplicity 
had enchanted her, for the moment. She paused to 
comment, somewhat extravagantly, upon the loveliness 
of the spot, insisting that they were to be envied for 
such a scene of peaceful charms — how gladly would 
she exchange for it the bustle of city life, even that 
of the Capital itself! Then came farewells; a re¬ 
newed and pressing invitation extended to Abe to 
visit them in Cumberland City; another to the trio 
whose hospitality they had so much enjoyed, couched 
in terms so general as really to mean nothing, how¬ 
ever. Virgil went on before; saddled their horses, 
which were restless and mettlesome after their dinner 
of oats, and the Congressman and his daughter 
mounted and rode away, waving a friendly adieu. 

The storm had brought them, the sun shone with 
friendly warmth as they departed, yet, unknown to 
any of them, either guests or hosts, they had un¬ 
consciously sown the seed of a wind from which a 
whirlwind was to spring. And in the reaping of it all 
were to share, although the shares were to differ. 



CHAPTER IX 


FIRST REACTIONS 

“Isn't she just adorable/’ said Omie, enthusias¬ 
tically, as Miss Clayton disappeared from their view. 

Camille replied, “ Yes, she ees veree pretty, but —” 

The younger girl shot a surprised glance at her 
sister-in-law, from under lifted eyebrows. Camille’s 
tone and words indicated disagreement or qualifica¬ 
tion, and there was a challenging retort on the tip 
of Omie’s tongue. She left it unspoken, however. 
The knowledge that her impulsive, snap judgments 
as to people sometimes had to be reversed almost as 
soon as formed, to her discomfiture, was too fresh 
in her mind. At the same time she assured herself 
that Marion Clayton was lovely and wonderful, alto¬ 
gether a creature to be envied, and the thought 
brought the inevitable comparison. Omie’s mercurial 
spirits dropped again. 

Even in vacation time there were dishes to be 
washed, beds to be made and clothes to be mended, 
and Camille, the housewife, had begun to comment 
in some dismay on the fact that the day was already 
two-thirds passed and almost nothing had been done, 
when she was interrupted by the deep voice of her 
patient calling out a request that they return and 
stay with him a little while longer. He put the whine 
of a sick child into his tone so effectively that the two 
girls could not resist it, and laughingly went back into 
the room, “ for just a moment.” Virgil rejoined them 
there, a second later, and then Mrs. Gayheart, who 
had known Abe as a boy. 

“ But now you should rest. You are seek, and 
92 


FIRST REACTIONS 


93 


have already had too much of companee, to-day,” 
asserted Camille, trying to appear stern. “ Your 
foot, J ow ees eet? ” 

“ All dressed up and nowhere tew go; but it’s feel¬ 
ing better every second. Please sit daown again, for 
a few minutes, anyway. I haven’t had just a vacation, 
with feminine company, since — I don’t believe that 
I ever did have one, and, naow that I’m beginning tew 
get a mite accustomed tew it, I like it.” 

“ Perhaps you’re like the coon who was told that 
they were going tew hang him the next morning, and 
said that he didn’t guess he was going tew enjoy that 
much, but he supposed that he could get used tew it,” 
interpolated Virgil with a grin, hurriedly dodging, as 
his sister pretended to cuff his ear. 

The girl was the first fully to yield to Abe’s im- 
portunings. Seating herself on the foot of the bed, 
her bare elbow resting on her crossed knees, her chin 
supported by her cupped hand, and eyes sparkling 
with enthusiasm, she exclaimed, “ Oh, I should think 
you’d be too praoud for anything, Mr. — Abe! Tew 
have a Congressman say such splendid things abaout 
you, and that you’ll be sent tew Congress, yourself, 
and then be Governor of Cumberland—” 

“ Omie, you stop that automobile and get right 
aout — you’re driving at altogether too fast a clip 
for a man used tew riding only in maountain jolt- 
wagons, or on a meditative mule.” 

She laughed gleefully, with a gurgling, childlike note 
which brought a gleam of amused appreciation to the 
man’s eyes, and to his heart a resolve that he would 
make her repeat it often. 

“ But Mr. Clayton saounded as though he really 
meant what he said, and if he’ll throw you his sup¬ 
port —” Virgil commenced almost as eagerly, but was 



94 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


interrupted by Abe’s dry rejoinder, “ Ever hear the 
old saying abaout not caounting unhatched chickens? 
Likewise the Psalmist’s warning, 4 Put not your trust 
in Princes ’ ? I don’t take Clay’s generalizations too 
seriously; his flattering cordiality doesn’t mean any¬ 
thing, and isn’t meant tew. You see, he’s a regular 
old line politician, with the whole bag of tricks; what 
we call an accomplished 4 glad-hand artist,’ naow-a- 
days. I shouldn’t be saying this unless I were sure 
that I’m among friends, and I don’t want you tew 
think I don’t like him. I do. 4 He’s all right as far as 
he goes, but he doesn’t go so very dommed far,’ as 
the Irishman put it. So does most everybody like 
him, for he’s a good mixer, affable, looks the part, 
and usually votes for everything that he thinks the 
majority wants, regardless. I wouldn’t be surprised 
if he sometimes hears the crack of Malley’s whip and 
acts accordingly; but in the main he’s in favor of 
things — farm aid, educational aid, maternity aid, 
government ownership, free seeds, good crops, fair 
weather. In fact, anything that’s likely tew be popu¬ 
lar with the people.” 

Virgil laughed, then asked, 44 Is Malley still actually 
the political boss in the State? I kind of thought —” 

44 Oh, I reckon most folks would say that we’d aout- 
grown that sort of thing, and there hain’t no sech 
animal as a political boss, naow-a-days. Well, maybe 
not; not the old-fashioned, uncraowned Czar whose 
rule everybody knew abaout and recognized, anyway. 
Have you got a book called 4 Coniston,’ by Winston 
Churchill, in your famous library, Omie? Virgil 
aought tew read it if he’s interested in politics, for it 
gives a mighty good picture of that kind of boss. 
Malley isn’t anything like that, of course. He keeps 
himself aout of the public eye so well that probably 



FIRST REACTIONS 


95 


half the people in the State never even heard of him, 
and would haw-haw at the suggestion that he was a 
pernicious influence in politics, to-day. But — well, 
I don’t know, but I have a hunch that he’s still a sort 
of Field Marshal directing the campaign from his 
dug-aout. Don’t quote me, though; a lawyer, espe¬ 
cially, has no business tew make allegations that he 
can’t prove, and I haven’t any evidence in support of 
my theory.” 

“ You speak as though you thought you could dig 
some up, if necessary,” suggested Virgil, and Abe 
laughed. 

“ Well, I’m not likely tew start tilting at windmills, 
just at present; corn-stills are taking all my time.” 
He caught the puzzled look on Omie’s face and 
digressed long enough to recommend that she read 
“ Don Quixote,” sometime. 

“ I will,” said the girl, “ and I’m going tew read 
4 Coniston,’ too, and I want tew know all abaout 
this Mr. Malley. I hadn’t any idea that politics 
could be so interesting.” 

“For goodness’ sake don’t you allaow yourself tew 
be bitten by the bug. One who does is never the 
same again,” responded Abe, solemnly. “ Politics is 
fascinating; so is the habit of taking drugs, I’ve 
heard. As tew this man Malley, whom I’ve been 
making such a bugaboo aout of, he’s a lawyer, and 
an able one, that lives daown at the State Capital. 
His practice is mostly with corporations, especially 
the big coal Operators; but not so many years ago 
he was the king of lobbyists and, although he’s never 
seen anywhere near the Legislative chambers, naow, 
my guess is that he’s still the commander-in-chief of 
a paowerful and high-salaried lobby.” 

“ And what’s a lobby? ” demanded Omie, who was 



96 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


beginning to feel quite proud of the knowledge of 
politics which she was gaining. 

Her instructor explained, in simple language, con¬ 
tinuing, “ In addition to that, I believe that he stays 
aout of sight behind the scenes and pulls the strings 
which make the mannikins aout on the stage move. 
It’s fairly easy for him tew h’ist them up intew the 
seats of the mighty, and all the little fellows have tew 
dew is stick in their grooves and get shoved along. 
You see, it’s a heap sight cheaper for the Interests 
which Malley represents tew spend a given amaount 
of money in advance, assuring the election of the sort 
of men who can be relied on tew vote ‘ right,’ then tew 
trust tew his being able tew buy their Legislative votes, 
afterwards — especially naow-a-days, when the* Pub¬ 
lic has been fed up on stories of graft and is strong 
for Purity in Politics.” 

“Well, I don’t see what difference it makes when 
they spend the money—” Omie began. 

“ It’s not so much a question of 4 when ’ as ‘ haow.* 
They don’t buy the Legislator’s vote, they buy the 
votes of the people who elect him, indirectly, by con¬ 
trolling the press, hiring halls, sending aout speakers, 
and furnishing brass bands and red fire. There’s a 
law called the ‘ Corrupt Practice Act ’ against spend¬ 
ing more than a limited amount in the Primary elec¬ 
tion, but there are a hundred ways of getting araound 
that. And friend M. — for ‘ Michael ’ — Burke Mal¬ 
ley is master of them all. At least, 1 that’s my story, 
and I’m going tew stick tew it.” 

“ Haven’t I heard that he was a ‘ furriner 7 — I 
mean that he came hyar from another state, when he 
was a young man? ” inquired Virgil. 

“ Like enough. And originally from another coun¬ 
try, according tew the tell. It’s been rumored that 



FIRST REACTIONS 


97 


he was born in Ireland, where the smartest of aour 
American politicians are bred, and that he started life 
as plain Mickey O’Malley — not that that’s anything 
against him. Maybe he figured that the ‘ O ’ would 
be aout of style daown Saouth and he dropped it on 
the way, but it’s sort of queer that he came Saouth 
at all, instead of heading for New York or Boston and 
queerer still that he turned Republican. Maybe he 
thought that the field for exercising his talents 
wouldn’t be so craowded, daown hyar — and there 
are political strings tew be pulled, anywhere.” 

“ I don’t guess that he’ll ever have any on you,” 
declared Omie. 

Abe smiled at her vehemence. “ And I guess that 
your guess is a safe one. I daoubt if Malley has ever 
heard my name, even, and he doesn’t bother tew bait 
his hook for small fry from these maountains.” 

“ Well, he couldn’t land you, if he did.” 

Still more amused, he said, teasingly, “ You never 
can tell. They say that every man has his price. I 
sure would love tew have him try it.” 

“ Abe Blount, you wouldn’t! ” 

“ Would. Then at least I’d know that I had grown 
intew a fish big enough to make a splash and attract 
his attention, anyway. Haowever, the prospect of 
having tew fight against that particular temptation 
isn’t worrying me a great deal, naow. And, tew tell 
the truth, I think I’ve got too much sporting blood 
in my veins tew get any fun aout of sitting in a game 
with the gang, knowing that the cyards were stacked 
and that we were almost dead certain tew win. I 
believe I’d enjoy it more, trying tew beat the machine 
and getting run off my feet, than ride tew glory in 
it, with someone else steering it along the same old 
ruts on the same old road. That’s one reason why I 



98 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


didn’t take much stock in Clay’s pipe dreams on my 
accaount. Mighty slim chance I’d have tew get my¬ 
self elected tew any office that Malley and his ma¬ 
chine cared a cent abaout, such as Representative. 
And Clay knows it.” 

“ But — but the people dew the electing, don’t 
they? And —” 

“ Oh, sure. And once in a while we get all het up 
over some reform, and the old gang gets a licking. 
Not very often, though. We like tew think that we 
dew aour own thinking, but it’s generally second¬ 
hand— just what the political spellbinders and the 
press hand aout. That’s natural. We’ve got other 
affairs, which seem a whole lot more important, tew 
attend tew. And, naow^a-days, the Malleys don’t 
have tew dew anything so crude as offer bribes. 
Money still talks, but in a different way. It says tew 
the small newspapers ‘ I’ll buy so many news columns 
a week from you and — er —, by the way, I’d appre¬ 
ciate it if you’ll also print an editorial favoring my 
candidate ’ ; and tew the big ones it is even more 
polite, on the surface. A mere hint is generally 
enough, since the Big Interests are generally the chief 
stockholders. And where does the aoutsider stand 
with the paower of the Press solid against him? ” 

“ Oh, Abe, I think that’s perfectly horrid,” ex¬ 
claimed Omie, with real distress. “ Why, if that’s so, 
Congressman Clayton must be one of that awful Mr. 
Malley’s —” 

“ Hold on, hold on. I’m talking generalities, not 
personalities, naow. We don’t want tew slander an 
estimable gentleman — two of ’em, in fact, for the 
awful Mr. Malley is said tew be a charming fellow. 
And there’s no need of being so terribly shocked; it 
isn’t necessarily as bad as it saounds. Machine poli- 



FIRST REACTIONS 


99 


ticians aren’t all crooks, by any means; I’m certain 
that Clay isn’t one; and, besides, we mustn’t forget 
that, after they’re elected, they’re not politicians, at 
all, they’re Statesmen. They call their methods being 
‘ practical,’ and I reckon it is. Business is business. 
The surest way tew keep moving at the head of the 
procession is tew climb on the band-wagon and take 
a ride. Folks see you sitting pretty there and get 
the idea that you must be a mighty big man. And 
it’s not fer me tew say that Clayton, or any other in¬ 
dividual, is a wrong-dewer; that’s a question for a 
man’s own conscience, and if he honestly believes that 
the system is all right, all right. But I think it’s all 
wrong, so, if you ever see me riding on the band wagon, 
I shall expect you tew end aour friendship. If you 
fight hard for a thing, you always appreciate it more 
than if it came easy, and that may be why Clay is 
thinking of quitting Congress; but, well, it may 
saound like knocking, but I’ll bet it’s the best job 
he ever had in his life, or ever will have. You might 
say the same abaout plenty of others in Congress, to¬ 
day, I guess likely; but there are plenty of exceptional 
men there, too.” 

“ I suppose so,” agreed Virgil. “ After all, they are 
just what their title says — Representative of the rest 
of us, good, bad and indifferent; able, ordinary and 
bone-headed.” 

“ Right. And it’s probably a good thing, too. The 
rest of us average folks wouldn’t be able tew keep 
step with a Legislature composed wholly of Solomons. 
We’d be so jealous of them that we’d start yelling, 
‘ Off with their heads,’ in next tew no time.” 

The other nodded, and said with a rather sheepish 
laugh, “ I reckon that I got carried away a bit by 
the Congressman’s big-taown talk, but you’ve put 



100 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


him in a somewhat different light. As a matter of 
fact my first impression was probably nearer right, 
for he struck me as being a good deal like the rest 
of us ordinary men.” And he proceeded to tell the 
story of Mr. Clayton’s request for a little mountain 
“ medicine.” 

The Sheriff’s eyes twinkled. “ That’s Clay, all 
over. He’s a good fellow but he’s human. Clayton’s 
climbed on the Volstead band-wagon, too; but not the 
water-wagon. He’s strong for Prohibition, of the 
Statute books, but keeps a ‘ leetle something ’ in the 
haouse — for medicinal purposes. 

“ Maybe you noticed that, when I was talking 
abaout the reasons why I wanted tew be elected State’s 
Attorney, I shifted from the subject of moonshiners 
to coal-miners, in a hurry. Well, I had a hunch that, 
if Clayton got the idea that I was especially interested 
in damming up the streams of ‘ white licker ’ that 
trickle daown these maountain-sides tew moisten the 
parched throats in the taowns, he wouldn’t be quite 
so ready tew back up my candidacy. Hope you won’t 
think that I failed tew live up tew the name of Honest 
Abe by dewing that, Omie. You see I can be ‘ practi¬ 
cal,’ like other politicians, when I’m certain that the 
end justifies the means, and the means aren’t dis¬ 
honest in themselves.” 

“ But you really dew want tew put an end tew 
moonshining, don’t you, Abe? ” inquired the girl, 
who had been trained by “ Smiles ” to understand the 
evil inherent in that illicit business. 

“ I want tew put an end tew every kind of law-break¬ 
ing, so far as I can. And one of the strongest reasons 
for my wanting tew swap jobs, naow, is because I hate 
tew be everlastingly cutting up the little stills run by 
my old friends and neighbors — yes, and relations — 



FIRST REACTIONS 


101 


when I’m plumb certain that they are encouraged tew 
break the law by an organized gang of boot-leggers, 
daown in the taowns. Aour ignorant maountain people 
assume all the danger, while they get most of the 
profits. Of all the low-daown caowards they’re the 
worst. They keep under cover like foxes and have got 
tew be dug aout of their holes. That’s one thing that 
I’m dead set on dewing, with the help of the Grand 
Jury, if I get elected.” 

“ Good! ” cried the girl. 

“ I’m not a Prohibitionist, although I haven’t taken 
a drink since the Eighteenth Amendment became a 
law. I can like and even admire a man for other quali¬ 
ties which he may have, even if he disapproves of the 
law and sometimes drinks whiskey in straight defiance 
of it; and I certainly can sympathize with the ignorant 
maountaineer who can’t see what right the Government 
has tew butt in on his private affairs; can’t understand 
why he hasn’t a right tew dew what he likes with the 
corn which he’s grown under so much difficulty — 
either eat it, or distill it into licker and drink it. But 
I haven’t a particle of anything but hatred for those 
coyotes who are making a fortune aout of breaking 
the law, and poisoning the country with fusel oil.” 

“Same hyar. I feel just as you dew abaout it,” 
Virgil agreed. “ But what dew you think abaout the 
law, itself? You said that you weren’t a prohi¬ 
bitionist —.” 

For perhaps half a minute Abe remained silent, his 
gaze turned out of the window. The light struck full 
upon his lean face, from which had suddenly departed 
the animation which so altered its expression and re¬ 
lieved its somberness, and its lines and furrows ap¬ 
peared intensified. Both of the women were struck 
anew with the serious, careworn look which it wore; 



102 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Omie felt a surge of pity akin to pain, and Camille said, 
hastily, “ But no. You mus’ not ask so many ques¬ 
tions, Virgil. Mr. Abe is veree tired and he has not 
slep’ for a long time. Alors, let us go.” 

“ Please don’t. I don’t want you tew, and I’m not 
tired, honest, I’m not. Virgil asked me tew solve a 
mighty big problem, off hand, and I was wondering 
haow I should answer. If I looked tired it’s only be¬ 
cause thinking is such a mental strain for me — the 
boys often ask me if it hurts. If you-all want tew waste 
your time listening tew a crank like me hold forth on 
the subject of politics you’ve got nobody tew blame 
but yourselves. It’s the one thing I can talk abaout 
’til the caows come home — and enjoy.” 

“Fair enough,” said his host. “Let’s go! I’m as 
green as grass on the subject, but I’m willing tew 
learn.” 

“ You saound a little like the postmaster daown at 
Fayville who got some important mail all balled up and 
then apologized by saying, ‘ I’m willin’ tew be forgiven 
for anything I’m sorry for, Abe.’ Well—” 

The speaker paused again, and, before he could con¬ 
tinue, there occurred an interruption which caused a 
postponement of the discussion. It was to be resumed 
later; but, through one of those strange pranks of 
Fate, although the time was to be midafternoon, the 
month again June, and the participants the same, with 
one addition, full twelve months had elapsed, and the 
whirlwind was gathering force unto itself. 

The interruption came first through a halloo from 
without the little hospital, and next in the appearance 
in the doorway of the grinning, bearded face of Sam 
Slade, one of the Deputies who had taken part in the 
previous night’s raid. Weary as he must have been, 
he had that day ridden ten miles from his home down 



FIRST REACTIONS 


103 


to Fayville, and then, far out of his way, over the 
twelve mile twisting route to Smiling Pass, merely to 
inquire how his chief was faring. At least, so it seemed 
at first. 

“ Reckoned I’d jest drap in fer a jiffy, and find aout 
haow you was gittin’ along, Abe. The boys was dis¬ 
commodin’ theirselves abaout you, some,” he an¬ 
nounced. 

“ That’s right neighborly uv you, Sam, although thar 
want no real need uv hit, for my foot’s gittin’ along 
right smart,” answered the wounded man, promptly 
relapsing into the broad mountain dialect, and there¬ 
by bringing a smile to Omie’s lips. Tempora mutantur , 
indeed! 

She thrust forward a home-made chair, with a split 
ash seat, for the newcomer and resumed her place 
on the foot of the bed with no thought of embarrass¬ 
ment, for the pendulum which was vacillating between 
girlhood and womanhood had for the time swung back 
to the former. Indeed, her only thought in the matter 
was one of passing surprise that her smile was so ready 
and everything seemed so natural. A few hours be¬ 
fore, and she had not known Abe Blount at all, yet it 
had been her sincere belief that she could not possibly 
like him. Now it seemed rather as though she had 
known him all her life, and he was as much one of them 
as Virgil himself. Strange. 

“ What’s new, daown tew the taown? ” queried Abe. 

“ Well, hit’s a-buzzin’ like a hive uv wild bees. Most 
uv the folks thar air all het up on accaount uv your 
gittin’ yourself shotted, in spite uv me tellin’ ’em thet 
hit warn’t nawthin’ and you took hit cool enough your¬ 
self. But some uv the young fry, thet’s been drinkin’ 
moonshine, air a-sayin’ hit served you right fer cuttin’ 
up your own uncle’s still. Noey Fugate, he’s daown 



104 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


thar, drunk’s a fool, and a-swarin’ he’s a-goin’ tew git 
you fer hit.” 

“ Barkin’ dawgs.” The answer was uttered toler¬ 
antly. “ I hain’t a-feared uv what he’ll dew, whatever.” 

“ Better take off thet coat uv yourn, Sam, and let 
me hang hit by the kitchen fire fer a piece,” urged Mrs. 
Gayheart, for Slade had obviously not bothered to seek 
cover during the storm and his clothes were fairly 
clinging to his lanky form. 

“ I kain’t stop, Mis’ Gayheart; got tew be gittin’ 
along home, right smart. You-all come over — no, 
I don’t guess you kin, tew-night. Well, take keer uv 
yourself, Abe.” He stood up, and with a friendly nod, 
but without other form of farewell, strode to the door 
and out onto the veranda. There he called back over 
his shoulder, “ Virge, you come aout hyar a minute.” 

“You are all going out! ” Camille proclaimed, and 
she pretended to shoo them forth, holding her skirt with 
both hands and shaking it at them. There was a smile 
on her lips, but her words were suddenly decisive, for 
she was enough the trained nurse to observe the lines 
of pain and weariness deepening around the corners 
of her patient’s mouth and eyes. He made a pretense 
of begging them not to go, but she was adamant, and 
Abe not altogether sorry. “ But no,” she answered. 
“You mus’ now be quiet and rest ’til supper time. 
Perhaps you can go to sleep, and that will be good.” 

“ 4 Sleep, chief nourisher in Life’s feast ’ ” quoted the 
man. “ Well, I’ll try and take a little of said nourish¬ 
ment.” He suddenly realized how very tired he was, 
and his eyes closed with the closing of the door. 

At the top of the steps Virgil and Sam Slade were 
in low-voiced conversation. Nearer the door from 
which Camille had come stood Omie, her hands grasp¬ 
ing the railing, her young, lithe figure strangely tense. 



FIRST REACTIONS 


105 


“ Why, what ees eet, Omie? ” cried the other, the 
beat of whose heart had quickened inexplicably. 

Lifting her hand with a gesture commanding silence, 
the girl whispered, “ Sssh! but the men had a ready 
ceased speaking and started down the steps. 

“ Oh, Camille! I heard Sam Slade tell Virge that 
some of the wild, drunken men daown at Fayville were 
threatening tew teach Abe Blount that he can’t go on 
cutting up stills in these maountains. They’re planning 
tew come up hyar, to-night, and —’ 

With a little smothered wail she turned, threw her 
arms almost passionately about her sister-in-law, and 
pressed her face against the other’s bosom. Omie, too, 
was very tired, and weariness magnified her sudden 
fear. 

Camille stiffened and her face grew a shade paler as 
memory recalled another night, two years before, when 
they had stood locked in each other’s embrace within 
the doorway of the House of Happiness, while the dark¬ 
ness below them gave birth to many shadowy forms in 
motion and bent on destruction, to flashes from hostile 
rifles and the leaping flames from their own sawmill, 
set on fire by other wild and drunken men. And then 
Virgil, her Virgil now, leaping from rock to rock from 
his cabin across the creek, his army rifle answering 
the barking pack in deeper tones; his righteous anger 
finding expression in rude army oaths. Was the won¬ 
derful peace, which had at last come to her troubled 
young life, to be shattered again, merely because they 
had played the part of good Samaritans towards one 
who had come to them, wounded in the performance 
of his duty? 

By nature and training both women were more 
courageous than the average, but now, sharing the 
same thoughts, they quivered a little in each other’s 



106 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


arms. It is always easier to be calm in the case of an 
actual, than an imagined, crisis. 

They drew apart rather hastily, as Virgil came 
bounding up the steps again, crying out, “ What the 
dickens! Camille! Why, what’s the matter? You 
look like you had seen a ghost in broad daylight.” 

“ Is it true, Virge? Are the moonshiners coming 
hyar to-night, tew get Abe? ” breathlessly demanded 
his sister, seizing one of his arms while he placed the 
other about Camille’s waist. 

He laughed, boisterously. 

“ Oh, shucks, of course not. Sam just wanted me 
tew know that there was nothing tew get excited over, 
in case we heared that some of the boys had been dew¬ 
ing a little laoud talking. It’s just hot air and moon¬ 
shine. Good Lord, they wouldn’t dare start anything, 
where Abe Blount’s concerned. And anyway, men 
who really mean tew kill a public officer, or even tew 
rig themselves up like Ku Klux Klanners and hand him 
a beating, don’t go araound telling the world abaout 
it, in advance. Forget it, both of you, and don’t men¬ 
tion it to Abe or maw. Your beauty sleep isn’t going 
tew be disturbed, tew-night, I can promise you that” 

His hearty optimism and laughter at their fears put 
them to flight, for the time being, at least. Camille 
went to their home across the creek to attend to her 
long-neglected household duties, and Omie joined her 
mother in the kitchen. 

Not until both were safely out of sight did Virgil 
allow his brow to cloud a little. He fully believed what 
he had told them; but, since he knew that the price 
of safety in those hills was eternal vigilance, he had 
already made up his mind to call Bill Cress over for 
guard duty that night, and to make sure that his own 
rifle was in good working order. 



CHAPTER X 


THE LEGION OF THE CHEERFUL 

For the third time that day Omie stood outside the 
door to the House of Health, for the third time sent 
there upon the same homely errand, that of carrying 
back to the kitchen the dishes which had held food 
for their injured guest. Abe’s supper hour had been 
postponed until long after that of the others, for, when 
at six o’clock Camille had tiptoed in to see if he were 
ready to be served she had found him sleeping so peace¬ 
fully that she had softly closed the door again, leaving 
him to Mother Nature’s ministrations. Not until more 
than an hour later had he made known the fact of his 
awakening by a lusty demand, couched in army lan¬ 
guage, “ When dew we eat? ” 

Now he must have finished his meal, for the girl 
heard him chatting with her brother, and the breeze 
brought the faint fragrance of a well-seasoned pipe, 
which meant that Abe was smoking, since Virgil did 
not use tobacco in any form. Yet, once more she 
found herself hesitating at the threshold, and knew not 
exactly why. Most certainly it was not now because 
of any hostility towards their guest; nor was it timidity, 
for the awe which she had once felt had been fully dis¬ 
sipated by his simple friendliness. Moreover, she knew 
that, during the hours which had elapsed since she last 
saw him, her thoughts had repeatedly reverted, un¬ 
bidden, to him; to the almost constantly changing ex¬ 
pression on his plain, striking countenance; to the seri¬ 
ous things which he had said, the amusing stories which 
he had told in illustrating his points, the awkward but 
107 


108 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


expressive gestures of his big hands. And occasionally, 
with a smile and sigh intermingled, to his wounded 
foot, looking like that of a mummified giant in its 
gauze wrappings. She could not analyze the feelings 
which held her, hesitating, there, so compounded were 
they of antagonistic elements — eagerness and falter¬ 
ing; warm liking and sudden flashes of irritation; the 
urge to laughter and, unaccountably, at moments, a 
desire to weep. Above all, and dominating all, was an 
astonishment that she should have such thoughts and 
feelings regarding one whom she had known so short 
a time. Up to that spring Omie’s nature had been 
like the surface of the waters, now whipped to sudden 
passion by a storm, now reflecting the flash of the 
lightning or the rays of the sun, yet retaining not the 
slightest trace of any of them after their passage. But 
now its depths were stirred up, and she, never having 
suspected their existence, was troubled. 

Omie continued to delay her errand, making the ex¬ 
cuse to herself that Abe would be glad to be left alone 
with one of his own kind, without the everlasting 
presence of a petticoat, for awhile. She turned and 
leaned against the veranda railing, glad to let the 
breeze, which was going down with the sun, ruffle the 
hair above her broad, white temple, and gently fan her 
cheeks, flushed from bending over a dishpan full of hot 
water. She loved the peacefulness of the evening hour, 
which was now at hand: it both soothed her and stirred 
her imagination. The girl uttered a little sigh of peace¬ 
ful contentment. She was happy, after all; it was bet¬ 
ter to be a girl than a cow. 

Her brother startled her slightly by breaking in upon 
her thoughts with a call from the hospital, “ Omie, are 
you aout there? Come on in; Abe wants tew talk tew 
you.” 



THE LEGION OF THE CHEERFUL 109 


As she started toward the door the deeper voice cor¬ 
rected, “ No, I want you tew talk tew me. I’ve been 
holding the floor altogether too much of the time, tew- 
day, and, although you may not believe it, I’m not usu¬ 
ally much of a talker. Most folks say that I’m an un¬ 
communicative cuss; but I tell ’em that I was born 
bashful and never aoutgrew it. You see what evil ways 
a man can fall intew, through having too much unoc¬ 
cupied time on his hands.” 

Virgil laughed as he answered, “ Well, I reckon that 
it’s only a question of getting you started on some sub¬ 
ject in which you’re really interested, and we’ve been 
lucky in picking ’em. Anyway, I love tew hear a man 
talk, when he’s got something tew say. Oh, there you 
are, sis! Come in and entertain Abe for awhile; I’ve 
got tew go and light the lamps.” 

Virgil passed his sister in the doorway, pausing to 
give her a brotherly hug. As he passed on he said, 
over his shoulder, “ He’s been asking some more ques¬ 
tions abaout aour famous ‘ Smiles,’ and I told him haow 
you were going tew carry on her ideals, hyar, especially 
in the matter of being cheerful. He wants tew hear the 
verses you wrote abaout—” 

“ Virgil Gayheart, you never told him abaout that! 
Oh, I think you’re hatejul ” broke in the girl, with a 
flash of real vexation. 

“ Sure I did. Why not? They’re mighty good, 
and—” 

“ They’re not, either, Mr. — Abe. They’re just a 
silly, school-girl rhyme, and I’m sorry I made them up.” 

“ Oh, naow, Omie, please let’s hear them. I reckon 
I know abaout haow you feel, but there’s nothing tew 
be ashamed of in writing poetry — I’ve even done it, 
myself. And honestly I’d love tew hear your verses.” 

He spoke so persuasively that she wavered, still all 



110 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


warm with embarrassment and her anger against Vir¬ 
gil, which was now beginning to dwindle a little, how¬ 
ever, as a natural, if somewhat childlike, pride in her 
creation crept into her heart. 

“I — I really don’t want tew, Abe. But — well, if 
you’ll promise not tew laugh at them —. Oh, I don’t 
care whether you laugh, or not. They are silly. I’d 
die before I’d recite them, though, but—” 

“ You mean that you’ve got a written copy? ” 

“ Oh, heaps of them. You see ‘ Smiles ’ got hold of 
it and had it multigraphed tew send aout with some of 
aour pamphlets. I told her it was nonsense but — well, 
I’ll go and get it.” 

She ran from the room, and in a moment or so 
was back again, bringing a printed slip which she 
handed to him, shyly. “ Hyar. I know that you’ll 
think it’s foolish, but I tried tew make it saound as 
though I didn’t really think I was a poet by writing it 
in aour maountain language.” 

With this explanation she turned and fled out into the 
evening once more, so that he might not have a chance 
to observe the heightened color in her cheeks. But 
just outside the door she paused, half-hoping, half- 
afraid that he would read the verses aloud, which he 
immediately began to do, his deep, pleasant voice catch¬ 
ing the rhythm and making them sound better than 
she had thought possible. 

“ 1 The Legion of the Cheerful ’ 

“ I like that title, Omie,” he interpolated, rightly sur¬ 
mising that she was still within radius of his voice. 

“ Dark claouds gittin’ blacker, honey — Ole Man Trouble 
pressin’ sore? 

Seems like happy days, and sunny, hain’t a-comin’ anymore? 



THE LEGION OF THE CHEERFUL 111 


Hain’t no sort uv sense in pinin’, for the poet-man was right, 
Dark claouds hev a silver linin’; faith air always half the 
fight. 

Got tew skimp a leetle closer, so thet hungry folks kin eat? 
Goin’ tew growl abaout hit? No, sir! Charity air always 
sweet. 

What’s thet I jest heerd you mumblin’? 1 Thet the road 
air moughty long? ’ 

Lift your head and you’ll stop stumblin’; light your burden 
with a song. 

If you’re feelin’ kind uv fearful ’baout the aoutcome uv the 
day, 

J’ine the Legion uv the Cheerful, start a-smilin’ — thet’s 
the way. 

You hain’t one tew think uv quittin’, jest bekaise you’re 
feelin’ blue; 

Hyar’s a leetle thought that’s fittin’,‘ Fight the fight, hit’s up 
tew you.’ 

J’ine the Legion; you will find hit helps tew shorten many 
a mile: 

As fer trouble, you won’t mind hit halj so much if you jest 
smile. 

“ Written by Omie Gayheart, a sixteen-year-old mountain 
girl of Smiling Pass.” 

There was no laughter, only a complete silence with¬ 
in the little hospital following the end of the reading. 

Then Abe called gently, “ Omie, come in hyar, 
child.” 

She obeyed, returning almost as bashfully as though 
she were indeed a child, and took her stand by the bed¬ 
side with lowered eyes. Abe reached out to take her 
hand, but suddenly refrained. 



112 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Naow I’m not going tew be so foolish as tew say 
you’ve written a masterpiece of verse, because it isn’t. 
But it’s mighty good, for a sixteen-year-old maountain 
girl —” 

“ Oh, I wrote it more than a year ago,” interpolated 

e poetess. 

“ Well, for a seventeen-year-old one, for that matter. 
I like it. I’m plumb glad that you showed it tew me. 
The wording is pleasant and, better still, it expresses 
a fine bit of philosophy. I shouldn’t be a mite sur¬ 
prised if those little verses helped me over a good many 
rough spots in the future, for I mean tew keep them 
and —” 

She laughed, still rather embarrassed. 

“ I reckon they’ll wear aout pretty quick.” 

“ No, they won’t — not until I dew, for, after I’ve 
read them over a couple of times more, I’ll have them 
stowed away in a memory pocket, where I can always 
find them, even in the dark, which is when they’re most 
likely tew be needed.” 

“ Can you really learn things as quick as that? ” 

“Not all things, but I can simple rhymes, when I 
like the subject. Verse is a lot easier tew remember 
than prose, you know. That’s one of the reasons why 
good poetry is of such priceless value tew man. Any¬ 
how, I’ve made up my mind that I want tew join that 
Legion, right away. What dew you have tew dew tew 
become a member? ” 

“ Why — why — just smile , I reckon. Only you’ve 
got tew keep on smiling, or —” 

“ Or you forfeit your membership. That saounds 
reasonable.” 

By this time dusk had almost wholly invaded the 
room, but the girl knew, instinctively, that Abe Blount 
had joined the ranks of her Legionnaires. Moved by 



THE LEGION OF THE CHEERFUL 113 


a mutual impulse they clasped hands, and she felt 
that somehow an intangible, but very real, bond of sym¬ 
pathy had been forged between them. Her heartbeat 
quickened, but it was as a result of the thought rather 
than the contact of his hand on hers. 

“ A smile’s a funny thing,” remarked the man, after 
a moment of silence, and rather as though he were 
musing aloud. “ When you come tew think of it, it’s 
just the visible expression of an impulse, caused maybe 
by amusement, cheerfulness, friendliness or even cour¬ 
age. But what a heap it can mean! And it’s a good 
example of the text, ‘ It is more blessed tew give than 
tew receive ’; or, perhaps, it is more like what Shake¬ 
speare said abaout the quality of mercy, 4 It is twice 
blessed. It blesses him that gives and him that takes.’ 
Only it’s got tew be an honest smile which begins in 
the heart and spreads tew the face. It’s not so hard 
tew make the lips give an imitation of the real thing; 
but, if you want tew learn the truth abaout it, look 
in the smiler’s eyes. They don’t lie so easily.” 

“ I know. Rose McDonald often smiles with her 
eyes, even when her lips are quite serious — and I 
think that you dew, sometimes.” 

“ Hope so. A smile sure does help tew scare off Ole 
Man Trouble, and buck up a fellow’s own courage.” 

Omie started to ridicule the idea that he ever 
needed help of that nature, but Abe interrupted. 

“ You can just bet I dew, plenty of times. Why, 
sometimes I get pretty nigh scared tew death, when I 
start thinking what’s ahead of me. I don’t mind telling 
you that, for there’s nothing tew be ashamed of in 
being afraid, if you don’t let the fear stop you from 
going right ahead with what’s got tew be done. Why, 
they tell a story abaout a famous French field mar¬ 
shal, one of the bravest men in history, who felt his 



114 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


knees beginning tew knock together when he got tew 
thinking of a desperate battle that he was going intew 
the next morning. He looked daown at his shaking 
legs, and said, ‘ Dew you tremble? Ah, if you only 
knew where I am going tew take you, on the morrow, 
you would, indeed, have cause tew quake.’ ” 

Not knowing how to respond to this new confidence, 
Omie was silent, and almost immediately Abe went on 
in lighter tones, “ I’d love tew build me a home and 
live up hyar, if only so that I could tell folks that I 
came from a place named ‘ Smiling Pass.’ It saounds 
so attractive and cheerful. And I’ve been living in 
taowns altogether too long; even small and backwoodsy 
ones sometimes get on the nerves of a man who was 
born and bred in the maountains.” 

“ Oh, why don’t you dew it? I wish you would, 
Abe! Even if you couldn’t live hyar all the time, you 
could have a little cottage-haouse tew come tew, naow 
and then, and tew think abaout while you’re away. 
We could cut the lumber for it at aour sawmill, and 
Virgil could have the boys help build it, as part of 
their manual training. Oh, please! I know just the 
prettiest spot for it; a little knoll just above where aour 
land ends, at the bend of the creek. You can look 
daown the valley both ways, there’s a brook and a 
wonderful sycamore tree, and—” 

“ Stop. If you keep on like that I’ll be tempted 
tew give up both law and politics and revert intew a 
lazy maountaineer again. You don’t know it, but 
you’re simply putting intew words one of my pet 
dreams, which I play with night after night. I can go 
tew sleep a lot quicker if I can only steal away in 
imagination up hyar in the hills. It sure would be 
great if I could have a real place like that tew come 
tew, if only naow and then. If I should dew it, would 



THE LEGION OF THE CHEERFUL 115 


you help me plan it and keep an eye on the building of 
it, for me? ” 

“ Would I? Wouldn’t I just love tew, though! Oh, 
let me light up and get a pencil and paper —” 

“ Suppose we let the pencil and paper part go until 
to-morrow. The moon will be rising in a few minutes. 
Let’s talk as we are and watch its necromancy —” 

Omie broke in to echo the unfamiliar word in a 
puzzled voice, and Abe explained its meaning, simply, 
adding, “ Pull up your chair so that you can look aout 
of the window, too, and we’ll build aour haouse in 
imagination, first. That’s where all created things 
start, you know; I reckon that God must have imagined 
the Universe before he began tew construct it.” 

“ That will be fun.” 

The girl moved her chair closer to the bedside and 
once more assumed her favorite posture with elbow 
on knee, chin on hand. But, although she had her full 
share of the imaginative instinct, her training had, of 
late, been along practical lines and a desire to air her 
knowledge of modern construction caused her to say, 
“ Of course you’ll want tew have all the conveniences 
that we have, hyar, and are teaching the maountain 
people tew adopt, such as three or four rooms, stoves, 
real beds and other furniture, so we’ll plan with those 
in mind, although you wouldn’t have tew get them all at 
once, of course. They cost an awful lot of money, and 
a heap more tew get them up hyar, you know.” 

“ Yes, I reckon so. But it won’t cost anything tew 
pretend we’re going tew have them,” he answered, 
cheerfully. “ And, while we’re abaout it, we might as 
well put in a bath with running water, hot and cold; 
electric lights —” 

a Abe Blount, naow you’re making fun again, and 
I’m in earnest. I want tew believe that you’re really 



116 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


going tew build your dream haouse; but, if you won’t 
play fair, why, you can get straight aout of the auto¬ 
mobile.” 

The man heard once more her low, throaty laugh 
and he smiled in the darkness. 

“ I’ll play fair,” he answered, contritely. 

“All right, then. Haow much money dew you 
reckon you can spend on it — just the building, I 
mean, naow?” 

Without waiting for his reply she voiced another 
thought which had sprung into her mind, born of her 
question, and which was to change the subject of their 
talk abruptly and entirely. 

“ Oh, wasn’t it a shame that your granny sold that 
coal land when she did! ” was the parenthetical ex¬ 
clamation which caused the change in this instance. 
“ If she hadn’t been tricked intew dewing it, then, 
you might have been rich, naow, and able tew build 
a castle instead of a cottage on aour maountain.” 

Abe laughed. 

“ I don’t guess so. If the property hadn’t been sold, 
the coal company wouldn’t be mining hyar, naow, 
and they’d still be trying tew buy it as cheaply as they 
could. Tew be sure, it might bring a lot more money 
to-day than it did twenty-five years ago, but we’ve got 
tew be broad-minded enough tew remember that it is 
the iniquitous corporation’s railways, machinery and 
its capital which hires the labor which have made the 
potential value of the coal the actual value that the 
engineer puts upon it. Besides, maw was one of a 
baker’s dozen children, so my own share of the fortune 
wouldn’t have been so very large, if I’d got any of it.” 

“ Who was your mother, Abe? ” inquired the girl. 
She spoke casually, without having any particular 
curiosity, although she vaguely remembered that Virgil 



THE LEGION OF THE CHEERFUL 117 


had not answered her earlier question. It was a per¬ 
fectly natural and innocent query, for, in that shut-in 
hill country, family relationships were so closely inter¬ 
woven that every one was expected to know, or know 
all about, every one else who lived within a radius of 
miles. “ Did she marry one of old Uncle Dan’el 
Blount’s boys, over on Rattlesnake? ” 

The answer did not come immediately. Instead, 
Omie was conscious that the silence which followed her 
question was oddly prolonged. The twilight had faded 
into almost complete darkness, within the room, and" 
this suddenly intensified the strange uneasiness which 
began to creep into her mind, together with an in¬ 
explicable feeling that something was wrong, some 
evil portended. This was increased and made acute 
when she heard the man draw his breath deeply with a 
painful catch in it. 

She felt that she had to speak again, and said in a 
troubled voice, “ Why . . . have I said something 
that — that I shouldn’t have? I didn’t mean—” 

Abe moved his head on the pillow, and answered 
gently, “ No. It was a natural question, Omie. I don’t 
love tew answer it; but I reckon that I’d rather have 
you hear the whole story from me than from some one 
else. And of course yoil will hear it, sooner or later.” 
Then he added with a trace of bitterness in his tone, 
“ When a man goes intew politics, his life and private 
affairs cease tew be his own; they become public 
property.” 



CHAPTER XI 


THE SHADOW 

Abe hesitated no longer, but straightway entered 
upon his self-imposed ordeal. He continued steadily 
to the end with but one brief interruption, at the very 
outset. 

“ Maw was one of those Blounts, Omie,” he began. 

“Oh! ” 

The girl could not wholly check the exclamation 
which was wrung from her by the startlingness of the 
disclosure. Until he had nearly concluded she said 
nothing more; but steadily, throughout his story, her 
heart grew more and more leaden, and filled with a 
dull ache in sympathy with the fiercer pain which she 
knew he was experiencing. Not that he hinted at it, 
for he spoke in the simplest manner possible, making 
only the most meager of explanations and no excuses. 
Perhaps he spoke the more freely because of the dark¬ 
ness. His solitary hearer stood for Mankind. She 
should hear the facts, and might decide upon them as 
she would. He would keep his voice calm, emotionless. 
In the main, he succeeded, yet the girl who sat listen¬ 
ing in the dark, heard far more than a bald recital of 
events. Her mind and imagination were both super- 
active, and they wove the spoken words into a vivid 
moving picture which produced strong reactions in her 
heart. Yet these did not include even the suggestion 
of a thought that there was anything strange in his 
telling her the story. Omie was a mountain woman. 
In spite of her youth, as measured by the calendar 
standards of a modern world, she was already fully 
118 


THE SHADOW 


119 


acquainted with vital principles of life, and the primi¬ 
tive passions of her own people. The picture which 
he sketched in outline for her was not a new one, 
although it contained new elements. Unhappily, its 
salient features had been duplicated, time and again, 
in the lives of those who dwelt apart, almost completely 
shut off from what we are pleased to call “ civiliza¬ 
tion ” — as, indeed, they have in every land and 
through all the ages since man was man, and woman, 
woman. 

Still, she felt a difference, and sensed an element in 
the story which stirred her to understanding and to 
pity. It was as though her mind perceived the fire 
which burned beneath the cold gray ashes; the dead 
facts which he uncovered to her vision. Indeed, the 
story which he told so simply might well have served 
a John Fox as the plot for a gripping romance of the 
Cumberland hills in those days, now almost departed, 
when family feuds still ran high and passions did the 
same. Later, Omie was to learn more of its details, 
and the story may here be chronicled rather more fully 
than as told by Abe that night. 

When Franklin Perriman first came into the life of 
Lispeth Blount she was a full year younger than Omie 
— barely passed sixteen, in fact — and those who had 
known her at that time agree that the Cumberland 
mountains sheltered no fairer, sweeter flower from the 
Anglo-Saxon stalk than she. Mountaineers though 
both families were, they had sprung from the best of 
Old Dominion stock, and still retained much of its 
superiority in comparison with their neighbors; and all 
of the old pride. The first Blounts, in Virginia, were 
landed proprietors; owners of rich, wide fields and 
many slaves. Their hill descendants — sired by a 



120 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


younger son who had sought to make a fortune for him¬ 
self in the promised land of the Blue Grass, the family 
estates being entailed, and had become lost in those 
mountain fastnesses — were still regarded as people of 
substance, although they had already begun to fall 
foul of misfortune. On the other hand, the Perrimans 
were originally Cavaliers; adventurers from the be¬ 
ginning, and, later, among the more venturesome pio¬ 
neers who, for the sake of excitement, had helped 
Boone and Lewis to wrest from French and Red Man 
the “ dark and bloody land,” the mountain wilderness. 
And of such was Franklin Perriman — a throw-back, 
perhaps, for his people had become content to remain 
fixed; a herculean youth full of daring and picturesque 
dash. 

Fortune had placed the two families in the same 
narrow, winding valley, and divided its land between 
them, almost to the exclusion of other squatters. Since, 
at the start, both houses were proud and strong of 
will, it is not strange that they had clashed, or that, 
more than two generations before the birth of Franklin 
and Lispeth, a bitter feud had come into being over 
some now-forgotten and probably trivial incident. A 
number of the menfolk of both sides had paid the pen¬ 
alty of its mad continuance, ending life as the target 
for a rifle ball dispatched by one of the other clan. 
But, before these two were grown to manhood and 
young womanhood, respectively, a truce had been 
tacitly agreed to by their fathers, who were becoming 
old and had, with advancing years, acquired a sanity 
which had not been theirs in the days of their youth. 

Franklin and Lispeth had met each other countless 
times, of course; but not until he was twenty and she 
four years less had their eyes been really opened. 
Then they saw — and loved at first sight. They made 



THE SHADOW 


121 


no secret of it. Franklin was too daring to care to 
resort to subterfuge. He marched boldly up to the 
cabin-castle of the enemy, declared his love, and asked 
the girl in marriage. Here was a challenge such as 
could not very well but cause the old fires to flare up 
again. The inbred hatred for the tribe of Perriman 
and all its works made Lispeth’s father utter an angry 
refusal. He ordered the brazen youth to leave, and 
pointed his command with a leveled rifle, in the face 
of which Franklin coolly served notice that he meant 
to.continue his wooing of the girl, win her and wed her 
if he could, with or without her family’s consent. 
Lispeth, for her part, as frankly declared that she 
loved him and would come to him when he wished. 
Thus was again revived the old story of Montague and 
Capulet, of Romeo and Juliet, but with the additional 
element of Anglo-Saxon determination, and without the 
conventions and restrictions, even of medieval Italy. 
The fires of love were fanned to hotter flame by the 
winds of opposition, as is always the case if the love 
is real. 

Lispeth was closely guarded and watched, particu¬ 
larly by her six brothers. They were young and hot¬ 
headed and the old feud seemed to them something 
vital and containing something of the chivalric. Yet 
the lovers met from time to time, as lovers will, even 
when watched, and finally the girl won over her mother 
and got her to intercede for them. This she succeeded 
in doing the more easily because the feud had already 
laid a heavy load of grief upon the heart of the older 
woman, as is the lot of woman, and she knew that other 
blood enmities in those mountains had been healed by 
the intermarriage of two of the warring families. With 
these arguments, and patient appeal, she began at 
length to undermine her husband’s resolve. But in 



122 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


proportion as it grew weaker that of the six sons in¬ 
creased. 

Meanwhile Franklin continued steadfast to his pur¬ 
pose, and even built a new home — a small cabin, but 
large enough for two — to which he meant to take his 
bride, for Lispeth had declared herself ready to break 
with her family for his sake. She was Naomi. “ Thy 
people shall be my people, and thy God my God.” 
When the cabin was nearly finished, weather-proof 
in its notched logs cemented with clay, and hand-hewn 
shingles, Perriman told her to be ready to come to him 
when he could secure the services of the only mountain 
preacher of that region, in whom was vested alike 
the power of Church and Law to perform the marriage 
ceremony, and who was able to visit that isolated creek 
so seldom that on more than one occasion he had been 
called upon to preach a funeral sermon over the grass- 
grown grave of a mountaineer’s first wife, and, on the 
same day, marry him to a second. 

Then came a June night when the sun set on smiles, 
to rise again on tears. 

Its history was clouded in uncertainty, as Abe frankly 
explained. All that was of record was that in the after¬ 
noon Lispeth disappeared from her home, eluding the 
watch which had been set upon her. The day had been 
wonderfully fair; but a storm lurked among the hills 
and, that evening, broke in almost unprecedented fury. 
Only one who has experienced a true cloudburst in the 
Cumberland mountains may know how furious that can 
be — the rain pours down as though all the floodgates 
in the firmament had been opened wide; it sweeps in 
gray sheets down the steep mountain-sides to convert 
the creeks from impotent streamlets into raging floods, 
overflowing their banks and capable of bearing away 
the strongest man. The lightning plays incessantly 



THE SHADOW 


123 


beneath the low clouds which hang from hilltop to hill¬ 
top like a black pall; the thunder crashes are caught 
up and tossed, reverberating, from wall to wall of the 
narrow valleys. 

At first the Blount brothers did not suspect the truth. 
Lispeth was lost, and, as soon as the storm let up a little 
in intensity, they began a widening search, not suspect¬ 
ing that she had really fled to join her lover in the 
little home which he had built for her, or that, through 
the wild night, she had there been sheltered from the 
awful and passionate elements. But such was the 
fact, and what had it mattered to them, who had each 
other, if nature was in upheaval, the everlasting hills 
lashed by a tempest which tore down deep-rooted trees 
and turned the creek below into a maniac of leaping 
waters, a ghostly white streak in the unnatural 
darkness? 

Then the dawn broke, bringing calm after storm, and 
in its early light the man and woman came forth from 
their shelter, their arms about each other’s waists, 
to welcome the first cheerful rays of the sun, little 
knowing what the daylight held in store for both of 
them. 

Suddenly the gray shadows on the eastern hillside 
gave birth to a sharp flash; the silence to the crack of 
a rifle. Franklin Perriman staggered; then sank slowly 
to the ground. The girl’s palsied arms could not sup¬ 
port his weight, although their clasp did not loosen 
until he had breathed out his life with his head against 
her breast. One of Lispeth’s own brothers had dis¬ 
covered them, and fired that shot. Moreover he gloried 
in his act — had he not avenged the honor of the 
Blount family? 

So ended the brief romance, but not the drama nor 
the stern reality which was to follow. While Lispeth 



124 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


lay in her father’s home, crushed, and with her dazed 
mind wandering for weeks, the old feud broke out 
again. Two of Franklin’s brothers were shot and 
killed; one of her own was desperately wounded. The 
law? At that time there was none to interfere in those 
mountain regions, even to avenge the initial murder, as 
to which the “ unwritten law ” would have been a full 
defense at any trial. For the rest, it was warfare. 
When the girl began to recover she placed a seal upon 
her lips and refused to discuss with any one her love 
affair, but there came a time when Nature forced her 
to break that seal of silence. She declared that she 
and Franklin had been married that afternoon. A 
strange “ preacher ” had performed the ceremony — it 
was his unexpected arrival which had caused Franklin 
to send for her to come to him in haste. Had there 
been any witnesses to the marriage? Yes, two of the 
Perriman boys, now dead at her own brothers’ hands. 
Who was the preacher? She did not know; a “ furrin’ ” 
missionary, she thought. Did she have a certificate? 
What was that? Perhaps the preacher had given 
Franklin a paper — oh, she did not know anything 
about such things. All that she knew was that she had 
married the man whom she loved, and been very happy 
for a brief few hours. And now he was dead! 

No one believed her story, except perhaps her 
mother, who did not dare to say so. Probably the men 
of her family did not want to believe it, now. There 
was no proof of its verity; Abe had in later years 
searched the County records in vain, but the law was 
lax in those days. There was none to corroborate her 
statement. Her brothers had done their work thor¬ 
oughly. 

Came another day when the March winds moaned, 
and no sun shone to greet the birth of Franklin Perri- 



THE SHADOW 


125 


man’s son, or to cheer the girl-mother, who, under the 
dictates of the harsh mountain code and primitive re¬ 
ligion combined, had been driven from her home to 
take up her lonely abode in the cabin which had been 
built for her by the man whom she had loved. Her 
mother was with her for the time; her father provided 
the means for her existence, nothing more. 

“ Oh, haow cruel! ” cried Omie, bitterly, when the 
son of Lispeth Blount reached this point in his story. 

“ Cruel, yes. But you know the customs of aour 
people.” 

“ Indeed I dew, Abe,” answered the girl, tears of 
pity and hot anger choking her words. “ I dew know 
haow aour people act when they believe — what they 
believed abaout your mother. I heard ‘ Smiles ’ arguing 
with Preacher Stuttering Sam abaout it, one day, too. 
She quoted the wonderful story of Christ and the Mag¬ 
dalene — not that Lispeth was like her —” 

“ No. I, at least, know that her story was true.” 

“ So dew I, Abe, of course.” 

“ She was more like that other Mary in the sorrows 
which she was forced to bear because the world would 
not believe, and, disbelieving, would not make any al¬ 
lowances. Its judgments are bitter. The subject is not 
a pleasant one, Omie, but — well, I suppose Sam an¬ 
swered that, when the Lord said to the woman ‘ Go, and 
sin no more,’ the first word was a command driving her 
aout of His presence.” 

“ That’s exactly what he said. He wouldn’t listen to 
‘ Smiles ’ at all, but just insisted that those of Christ’s 
church had an example in such cases, and were baound 
tew turn away from that other poor girl-mother. Oh, 
was there ever such narrowness and terrible ignorance 
as there is in these maountains? I don’t think that I 
ever saw Rose mad at a person, but that time she was 



126 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


so angry at Sam’s preachings, and at the way every one 
else araound hyar talked and acted, that she actually 
cried and said that they were a lot wickeder in God’s 
sight than the girl, herself, had been. She did every¬ 
thing for her, too, even though folks said horrid things, 
and threatened to drive all of us aout of the maoun¬ 
tains. But they didn’t dew it, and I reckon that they 
forgot, after a while.” 

“ Yes, they dew forget — after a while. But it was 
splendid of Mrs. McDonald. I know just haow she 
felt, only with me — Well, when I was a boy I reckon 
that my hatred for what I thought was the only sort of 
religion that man had was stronger than any other feel¬ 
ing, except perhaps my love for maw. Naow — well, I 
understand better, and tew understand is almost always 
tew forgive. The people of these hills can’t be blamed, 
altogether, and they should be pitied, too — the one 
who through ignorance acts unjustly is as pitiable as 
the victim of the injustice. Their minds and souls are 
shut in, just as they are physically; their spiritual 
horizon is just as restricted by maountains of ignorance 
and prejudice as their visual horizon is by maountains 
of stone and earth.” 

Abe stopped for a moment. The newly risen moon 
had sent a shaft of palest amber light diagonally into 
the room. It fell on the man’s face, toning it almost 
to the color of the pillow beneath his head, yet intensi¬ 
fying the lines of pathos about his mouth, and Omie 
regarded him with a feeling akin to awe, he looked so 
calm, self-contained and sorrowful withal. 

Without looking at her, and speaking almost as 
though to himself, he continued, quietly, “ And pardon 
under aour maountain code is as bad as the punishment 
— yes, far worse than it, I think. Men would have both 
forgiven and forgotten what they believed was her 



THE SHADOW 


127 


fault, and she would have been restored tew full rights 
in human society, if she would only have agreed tew 
marry any one of the several men who wanted her — 
wanted her because she was young and still beautiful 
for some years, although she faded quickly. But she 
would never sell herself in return for so-called 1 respect¬ 
ability.’ She knew that she had not sinned, and she 
was faithful tew — tew my father, until she died. And 
when I was old enough tew understand all this, too, I 
— well, I reckon I loved and honored her more than 
ever.” 

“ Of course you did. And so dew I, Abe.” 

The girl spoke very softly, and for the merest instant 
laid her hand with a gentle pressure upon the back of 
his as it lay, motionless, on the “ kivverlid.” 

There was another moment of silence. Then Abe 
moved and said, half apologetically, “ I suppose some 
folks would say that I shouldn’t be talking with you 
like this — had no right tew tell you that story. But, 
somehaow, it seemed as though I had tew be the one 
tew dew it, for naow almost nobody knows, or remem¬ 
bers her statement. And then — well, I had tew go on 
and try tew make you understand haow I felt, for I 
should feel no different even if what folks believed 
were true.” 

“ Of course. You are her son.” 

“ That’s it. I believe that mother was married; the 
world doesn’t; and I couldn’t help wanting you to have 
a sympathetic understanding, whatever you might 
think, yourself. The subject isn’t a pleasant one, but 
we shouldn’t forget that there may be two sides to it. 
Most people try to close their eyes tew it, and espe¬ 
cially tew keep the eyes of their boys and girls closed, 
lest they see something — ugly. That’s being like the 
ostrich in the traditional story. I think, myself, that 



128 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


it’s a lot better tew think and talk abaout the wholly 
fine and beautiful things in life — better tew look up 
at the stars than daown in the mire. Yet the mire is 
there; we’re more likely to stumble intew it if we don’t 
know that it exists and haow easily it can swallow one 
up, and — well, sometimes the stars are clearly re¬ 
flected in the surface of a pool hidden within that 
mire.” 

He had slipped back into a detached, impersonal 
way of speaking and went on in the same manner. 

“ And haow can mankind ever hope tew move on¬ 
ward and upward to the finer things, the higher levels, 
withaout stumbling again and again, if we deliberately 
blind aourself tew the pitfalls with which the road is 
lined? ” 

Hesitatingly, Omie spoke the thought which had 
come into her own mind. 

“ ‘ Smiles ’ used tew say that ignorance is a pit — a 
deep, black pit. And understanding a bridge across it. 
The stronger the bridge is built the safer it will be for 
people to walk upon.” 

Abe’s countenance lighted up at this, and he nodded 
with appreciation. 

“ And,” the girl continued, timidly, yet with an 
eagerness to relieve the other’s mind, “ please don’t 
think that it was wrong for you tew talk tew me the 
way you have — I’m grown up, naow, you know. Be¬ 
sides, it just couldn’t have been wrong, when it seemed 
so — so right and sort of natural. I guess I can’t explain 
just what I mean, but it did, and I’m glad that you told 
me. Perhaps it’s because you’re so much older than 
I, and — and you’re different from most men, and some- 
haow it seems as though I could speak my inmost 
thoughts right aout tew you — although I can’t explain 
that, either. Besides, I want tew know more abaout — 



THE SHADOW 


129 


abaout Life. I sometimes think and think abaout it 
until I grow almost afraid.” 

“ ‘ Afraid/ Omie? ” 

“ Yes. Truly I dew. I don’t know what I’m afraid 
of, exactly, only life itself seems so tremendous, with 
all its problems; and men and women so sort of help¬ 
less, especially girls. There seem tew be so many 
wrong things tew dew, and so often you don’t realize 
that they’re wrong until after you’ve done them; but 
you have tew suffer just the same.” 

“ Oh, naow you’re trying tew find the answer tew 
the whole riddle of life. And who knows it? Thou¬ 
sands of brainier people than you and I have given it 
up. The only thing for us is tew live and dew the best 
we can, according tew aour knowledge, trying tew add 
tew that, all the time. But, tew go back tew the subject 
of the young mother that ‘ Smiles ’ befriended, for I 
don’t want you tew get the idea that I’m excusing her, 
altogether. She was punished — although the punish¬ 
ment was far too cruel, I think — because she broke a 
law. Innocent people are sometimes punished, too, as 
mother was, and others because they were ignorant, as 
you said. But you know how I think about obedience 
tew law; and the marriage one is fundamental. Preacher 
Billy would say that it was ordained by God, and I 
suppose it was, in a sense, for it’s an absolutely essen¬ 
tial part of the great plan for the social progress of 
mankind. The individual often has tew be sacrificed for 
the greater good of the many, even though it some¬ 
times seems, and is, unjust. But the ‘ family ’ must be 
continued and protected. I didn’t intend tew deliver a 
lecture or start moralizing, but one thing’s dead cer¬ 
tain, Omie, people who bring babies intew the world, 
unlawfully, whether they’re consciously wicked or not, 
must suffer. They always dew and always will, even 



130 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


if other folks forget their fault, or never even know it. 
Their greatest punishment is always inflicted by them¬ 
selves upon their own hearts; but, for the sake of the 
social order they must be punished by some law, as 
well.” 

“ I suppose so— of course it is so. But there isn’t 
any justice in a law which makes a poor, ignorant girl- 
mother an aoutcast forever,” said Omie, rebelliously. 

“ No. I wasn’t thinking particularly abaout aour 
maountain code, then.” 

“ Well, I was. She was like — like your mother in 
one way. She wouldn’t marry anybody else, after¬ 
wards, and I think she did just right. Preacher 
Sam would say that I’m wicked in thinking that, I 
reckon, but it seems tew me that there is one thing a 
hundred times worse than — yes, I will say it, than 
love like that withaout marriage, and that’s marriage 
withaout love.” 

“ That’s an unpardonable sin, Omie — against the 
greatest law of all; one that is certainly God’s.” 

“ That’s exactly what I think. Nothing on earth 
could make me marry any man unless I loved him — 
oh, just awfully. And that’s another thing abaout Life. 
I know that such love as that must be wonderful. I 
would somehaow be sure that it is, even if so many 
great writers had not told abaout it; yet it seems tew 
me that there is something kind of terrifying in it, 
too.” 

“ It does seem that way, doesn’t it? But let’s not 
talk abaout such things any more.” 

“ Oh, please! I never have spoken like this with 
anybody, before, and somehaow I want tew talk and 
talk. It seems as though it might help me make up 
my mind abaout — oh, lots of things that have been 
worrying me.” 



THE SHADOW 


131 


“ Well, I don’t know. Pleasure is often so close tew 
pain that it’s hard tew tell where one leaves off and the 
other begins. And it seems that the most wonderful 
thing in the world, a great love, sometimes causes the 
sharpest suffering.” 

“ Have you ever felt it, Abe? ” timidly inquired the 
girl. 

“ Not the kind you’ve been speaking of. I never 
loved any woman, except mother, and I don’t guess that 
I loved her nearly enough, although, when I got old 
enough tew realize what she was bearing, for my sake, 
cast off by her family and shunned by nearly every¬ 
body, I tried my best tew make it up tew her.” He 
paused, then added, “ No, I’ve never experienced the 
love of a man for a maid, which even Solomon in all his 
wisdom failed tew understand, and I certainly hope 
that I may never experience it. Of course I shall never 
get married.” 

“ I don’t know why you should say that! ” 

Omie’s words were more a challenge than a question. 

“I see why, for I know the world better than you 
dew. This morning you jokingly asked me, ‘ What’s in 
a name? ’ and I answered, ‘ Everything.’ I meant it 
two ways, then, and I dew still.” 

“ And I say that’s foolish, a selfish sort of pride, Abe 
Blount! ” retorted the girl, with a flash of her cus¬ 
tomary spirit which had been strangely subdued of 
late. “ Besides, lots of men boast abaout being self- 
made, and you have surely made a name for yourself, 
one that everybody respects, naow, anyway.” 

“All that I’ve ever tried tew dew was make my 
mother’s name honored a little, and keep it so, for her 
sake. I don’t say ‘ honorable,’ because in my opinion 
it always has been that.” 

“ Of course. She wouldn’t have been really to blame, 



132 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


even if what people thought were true. Why, she was 
only a little maountain girl withaout any 4 bridge of 
understanding ’ tew walk on.” She paused a moment, 
and then added, “ It seems tew me that a great love 
must be something like the ‘ great and strong wind ’ 
that the Bible tells abaout, and it draowns aout ‘ the still 
small voice.’ ” 

“ I reckon it might be likened tew that — it’s cer¬ 
tainly something elemental.” Abe stopped, his mind 
swiftly elaborating the suggestion without conscious 
intent: “ Like fire, which warms and comforts when 
kept in check, yet can consume; like water, which satis¬ 
fies the thirst, and sometimes overwhelms and swallows 
up men and women; like the wind, as Omie says. A 
gentle, steady breeze is wonderfully pleasant; but, when 
it increases tew the paower of a whirlwind, it can sweep 
away the souls of men and whirl them, like leaves torn 
from the trees, up tew heights where heaven must seem 
very close, only tew cast them daown again, dead and 
broken things.” He caught himself up with a shrug 
of his shoulders and the mental admonition, “ Don’t be 
a fool, Abe Blount.” Aloud, he added, “ Yes, it must 
be terribly paowerful, sometimes, but just the same 
folks can make themselves secure against it, if they 
will.” 

This time it was the girl who did not immediately re¬ 
spond. She scarcely realized how strongly she had 
been moved by the story and the discussion which had 
naturally grown out of it, but she knew that her heart 
was beating sharply. She breathed rapidly, through 
parted lips. Just for an instant she caught herself ex¬ 
periencing a strangely poignant desire to experience 
such a great love, some day — to be caught up in the 
embrace of an overpowering wind, to live to the utter¬ 
most, to know. And the next moment she was shocked 



THE SHADOW 


133 


at her own thought, and felt the hot blood suffusing her 
neck and face. Reaction carried her thoughts back to 
the morning, which now seemed so long ago, and the 
wish that she were a cow, without human feelings. 
Shaking off both impressions, she said, “ And the rope 
tew secure yourself tew? It’s understanding, isn’t it, 
Abe? ” 

“ Yes, full understanding. It seems that laws, con¬ 
ventions and the fear of consequences aren’t enough. 
But, if the understanding could also include a realiza¬ 
tion of what shame and unhappiness another person 
might have tew suffer all his life, I think that the whirl¬ 
wind would lose its paower. The sins of the father are 
visited upon the children, as unjust as that seems.” 

Suddenly he uttered a short laugh, which seemed so 
out of place that it startled her. 

“ The Lord only knows haow I come tew be talking 
like this tew you; I would have sworn that it wasn’t 
possible for me tew discuss such a subject with any 
woman, especially a young one. Something’s got intew 
me, to-day. I guess that the witches are riding me, as 
Aunt Lissy would say. Well, we’ve swapped so many 
intimate confidences, on first acquaintance, that I 
reckon we’ve just got tew be real pals. I’ve taken you 
quite a piece along the rough road of Grown-up Land, 
and it’s up tew you tew lead me back for a vacation 
in that other country.” 

“ Oh, I will, Abe. And we’re going tew be pals; I 
just know that we are. We’ve sort of grown up to¬ 
gether, in just one day, haven’t we? ” 

“ Sure have. And I’m daown-right glad that Sam 
Slade suggested my heading for the hospital hyar. He 
must be a good fairy in disguise.” 

Both of them laughed at the idea, as they mentally 
pictured the rough mountaineer, and thought how in- 



134 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


suited he would be over being classed as a fairy. For a 
second time their hands, his so big and hers so small, 
met by mutual impulse, and the moon shone in with 
cool and friendly light upon the compact. 

“ Yes,” said Omie, after a moment’s pause. “ I’m 
glad you told me the story, Abe. But I wish you 
wouldn’t feel as badly as you do about what folks think 
and say. Besides, perhaps the truth will be proved, 
some day.” 

He laughed, mirthlessly. “ Not in this world, my 
child. When I got old enough I did everything hu¬ 
manly possible to find proof, and failed. That sort of 
thing happens only in fiction.” 

“ But I’ve heard ‘ Smiles ’ say that sometimes truth is 
stranger than fiction, and perhaps it will be, this time. 
I’m going to believe it, anyway — for your sake, Abe.” 

At that moment Virgil’s returning steps sounded on 
the veranda outside and his voice was heard demand¬ 
ing, “ What’s the big idea? Are you too lazy even tew 
light the lamp, Omie Gayheart? It’s a darned lucky 
thing that all of the children are away on vacation, for 
you two are smashing rules, left and right.” 

“ It’s my fault,” promptly responded Abe. “ She 
wanted tew light up, some time ago, but I said I loved 
the darkness, though I hope that my deeds aren’t 
evil.” 

“ Well, it’s after nine o’clock, and Camille told me 
tew tell you that she’d be in presently, tew 1 put you 
tew bed,’ as they say in hospitals. And she told me tew 
send you aout, a-kiting, Omie, and that, if you forgot 
tew bring the dishes, this time, you’d lose your job as 
assistant nurse.” 

“ Heaven forbid! ” ejaculated the patient. “ Omie’s 
promised — well, never mind. It’s aour secret.” 



CHAPTER XII 


NIGHT 

Omie crossed the creek on the new foot-bridge, to 
the cottage where her family lived, and stood in the 
doorway for a moment, viewing its architectural ar¬ 
rangements through new and critical eyes. Would it 
serve as a model for the home which she had promised 
to help Abe Blount design? Hardly. It would be 
much better to start fresh, for her home was the prod¬ 
uct of natural growth by additions whose sole purpose 
was usefulness. The effect was not bad — it seemed 
to be part of its environment, since the whole was still 
dominated by the original structure of hewn logs, but 
of course Abe’s house would be built of board, of up-to- 
date construction throughout. 

As it was Omie’s home, and typified alike the old 
life in the Cumberland mountains and the life which 
they of Smiling Pass were slowly but surely superim¬ 
posing upon it, the cabin is worth examining. When it 
had been erected, fifty years previous, to shelter the 
families of two generations of Tittles, it was regarded 
as quite the most imposing residence on “ Beaten,” yet 
it consisted merely of two medium-sized rooms, sepa¬ 
rated by a thin partition and a thick fieldstone chimney 
with broad-mouthed fireplaces of limestone on either 
side. Each half had its own door, but there were no 
windows to let in the sunshine, by day, or the breeze 
which swept down the pass, at night — not that they 
were greatly needed for this latter purpose, since many 
a wide chink between the logs furnished ventilation. 
And in each room lived, cooked, ate and slept — in rude 
135 


136 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


bunks built along the walls — a father and mother Tit¬ 
tle and goodness knows how many offspring; the num¬ 
ber increased yearly. 

When “ Smiles ” acquired it as part of the Smiling 
Pass property the first thing which she had done, after 
stripping it within to its bare walls, was to add six shin¬ 
ing windows. A porch followed, and an interior finish 
of paneled plasterboard. Neat iron beds, in one room 
for Virgil and in the other for his mother and young sis¬ 
ter, supplanted the bunks. The fireplaces still supplied 
heat in the winter, but their wrought-iron cranes be¬ 
came merely quaint ornaments, for, of course, the 
family ate in the House of Hunger, opposite. 

When Virgil brought his bride to live there, still fur¬ 
ther improvements had been planned and were now 
just completed. The partition had been pierced for a 
new doorway, and the right-hand room, which Omie 
had just entered, had been transformed into an attrac¬ 
tive living-room. Artistic prints, selected by the con- 
vent-trained Camille out of the hundreds of magazines 
which had been sent them by friends “ aout in the 
U-nited States uv A-meriky,” simply framed, bright¬ 
ened the walls; there were muslin curtains at the win¬ 
dows; bookshelves, well stocked with the favorite vol¬ 
umes of brother and sister; chairs and a table, made in 
their own carpenter shop; and even a small stand hold¬ 
ing a Victrola —- a discarded donation, whose squeaky, 
second-hand voice was still the wonder of those hills. 
Two more doorways had been cut through the end wall 
of substantial logs, giving into a new addition, compris¬ 
ing small, but neat and pleasant bedrooms where Omie 
and her mother slept. It stood as an example of what 
might be done with a mountain cabin, and told the 
story better than words. 



NIGHT 


137 


Mrs. Gayheart was always quite ready to retire soon 
after the supper dishes were washed, and she was al¬ 
ready in bed, her gaunt form vaguely outlined beneath 
the comforter, her prematurely aged face, now lined 
and looking perpetually weary, in spite of still retain¬ 
ing a suggestion of vanished loveliness like that which 
she had passed on to her daughter, turned towards the 
door. Omie went in to bid her good night. A deep 
affection existed between them, though it seldom found 
expression in words or demonstrative caresses, since 
they were both mountain women; so it is hardly strange 
that, when the girl suddenly bent over, drew her mother 
into her young arms and kissed her, almost passion¬ 
ately, Mrs. Gayheart should have exclaimed, “ Why, 
Omie! You hain’t sickening for a spell of fever, or 
something, air you? Your cheeks air all flushed-like, 
and your lips as hot and dry as — as anything.” 

Omie laughed the suggestion aside, insisting that she 
was perfectly well, only a little tired. 

“ Well, naow, I reckon you air, what with the short 
night we all had, and you entertaining all sorts of 
famous folks, tew-day. You better be gitting along 
tew bed right smart, honey, unless you’d love tew sleep 
in hyar with your maw, like you used tew.” 

She made the proposition a bit wistfully, for the kiss 
had stirred the maternal instinct which slumbered 
within her sunken breast. But the girl’s thoughts 
and emotions were too much engaged with other things 
to allow her to mark and perhaps respond to the veiled 
appeal in her mother’s voice. She smiled faintly and 
shook her head. No, the bed was not big enough for 
two; and, with a final good night, she turned back to 
the living-room. A student’s lamp was burning there, 
and the white brilliance from its mantle, fed by vapor- 



138 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


ized gasoline, was cast full upon a little Bible which 
“ Smiles ” had given her, and which she always kept on 
the table, though seldom opening it. 

As she stood beside it, her thoughts still busy with 
what had just occurred, she laid her hand upon the 
book, wholly unconscious of what she was doing, and 
began to turn the leaves back and forth. Finally her 
lowered eyes rested on one particular verse, and she 
read it, mechanically. Something in the words focused 
her mind upon them, and she read the verse a second 
time. . . a man of sorrows, and acquainted with 
grief.” It was a part of Isaiah’s prophesy regarding 
the Messiah who was to come, she knew; but she also 
suddenly recalled that the words had somewhere been 
applied to their own Lincoln. Lincoln ... Abe 
Blount! Surely the text was in full measure applicable 
to the man whose bedside she had just quitted; the 
tragic story of whose birth she had just learned from 
his own lips! 

Strange that it should have been granted her to catch 
a glimpse of his soul, and to see the shadow which, 
through unhappy chance, had been cast upon it, there 
to remain through all his life, ineradicably darkening it. 
Others knew the story, of course; but how many guessed 
that the shadow was so dark? “ A man of sorrows.” 
Yes, truly that, yet she knew that he was one whose 
courage would not bow beneath his load; one who 
would always hide the fact from the eyes of others, 
always wear the visible badge of her Legion of the 
Cheerful, a smile. 

Omie felt no uncertainty on that point. She had 
actually known the man but twelve brief hours, but 
she was sure that she did know him. He was as many 
sided as a crystal prism, but as clear, she thought. 
Any one who wished to look into his soul might do so; 



NIGHT 


139 


if they failed to see it as she had seen it, their vision 
would be at fault and not the object obscured. 

“ What’s got in tew me, to-night? ” whispered the 
girl, half aloud. “ I’m thinking thoughts as queer as 
Aunt Lissy’s must be. The next thing I know I’ll be 
having prophetic dreams and start fortune-telling. Of 
course Abe Blount is different from any one I ever 
knew; but, after all, he’s just a man — big, plain, awk¬ 
ward, he even acts like a claown, sometimes, and, al¬ 
though he can talk wonderfully , he’s just as likely tew 
use ungrammatical maountain language, or that of army 
camps and coal mines, yet —” 

That was just it: there was a “ yet.” She had sensed 
in him, without being able to define it, another quality 
which set him apart from ordinary men, and stirred an 
unsuspected something within her own nature. Many 
others had, in varying degrees, recognized the existence 
of this differentiating quality in him. One, at least, 
Preacher Billy, had already been so bold as to declare 
that their Abe possessed the true essence of greatness 
— although he did not use that expression — and been 
laughed at for it. Was the mountain preacher or the 
scoffers right? It is impossible to say, for only the 
Future can accurately read the measure of a man; the 
Present stands too close to the object, and its vision is 
distorted in consequence. And this is but a partial and 
unfinished biography. 

Certainly Omie did not consciously ascribe greatness 
to her new friend, although now and again she had felt 
something akin to awe while she was in his presence, 
and, being vexed with herself because of it, called it 
“ silliness.” Now, however, her thoughts of him held 
only sympathy, friendliness, a loyalty which was grow¬ 
ing into almost a passion, and a deep happiness over 
the fact that he had chosen her as a confidante and com- 



140 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


rade. Yet the happiness was tinged with pain. She 
had never had quite such a feeling before, and it both 
thrilled and troubled her spirit. 

“ Have I begun tew fall in love with him? ” she asked 
herself, and her heart promptly, and honestly, answered 
“ No.” Nevertheless, she felt that the day had changed 
her, in some inexplicable fashion. 

The girl walked slowly into her bedroom, and stood 
before the small looking-glass, leaning forward with 
her hands resting on the commode which held her sim¬ 
ple toilet articles, bowl and water pitcher. Even the 
blemishes in the inexpensive glass could not make the 
mirrored face other than sweet and fair; but, as she 
thoughtfully studied it, she saw no smile on the lips or 
in the eyes. 

“ Omie Gayheart,” she said at last, and half aloud, 
“ You told Abe the truth — you have grown up. And 
it isn’t much fun.” 

A mistiness rose between the girl’s eyes and the mir¬ 
rored countenance; she turned hastily away and began 
to undress. It was customary for her to do this with 
her chamber door left open so that she might have the 
benefit of the light from the lamp on the living-room 
table, and, if Virgil came in there, it did not matter. 
False modesty is a by-product of a false civilization, 
and a thing unknown among the children of those 
mountains. But to-night there was an entirely new 
consciousness of change in her heart, a desire to be ut¬ 
terly alone so that she might think — think. The arti¬ 
ficial light from the lamp was too intense; the cool radi¬ 
ance of the moon better fitted her mood. For the first 
time in her life she deliberately closed her bedroom 
door. The act was symbolic. She had, that day, defi¬ 
nitely crossed the threshold of Womanhood, and now 
she shut the door behind her. Omie had grown up. 



NIGHT 


141 


Lying upon her narrow bed, Omie could look out of 
the end window and up the creek to the spot where it 
disappeared behind the knoll which she had mentally 
selected as the location for Abe Blount’s cottage, at the 
farther end of Smiling Pass. By turning her head 
to* the left, upon her pillow, and looking through the 
side window, a small, square one hinged at the top and 
now hooked up to the ceiling, she could view the moun¬ 
tain, at the foot of which her home was built, from 
half-way up its steep slope to its peaked summit, and 
above that a narrow strip of sky. On such a summer 
night as this, the girl liked to lie awake and watch the 
moon sail upward while the rectangular shaft of light 
which it shot down upon her bed crept slowly across 
the sheet covering her young body, changing to a rhom¬ 
boid, a streak, a mere line, and then vanishing alto¬ 
gether. That was a signal for her to turn over on her 
right side, snuggle her head, with its mass of unbound, 
wavy hair, down upon her outstretched bare arm, close 
her eyes, and fall asleep. 

To-night she went through all of the usual prelimi¬ 
naries, but slumber refused to follow. Her mind was 
weary, but still wide awake, and the seat of crowding 
thoughts and memories. The events of the day, all the 
stories which she had heard concerning their guest, her 
own sensations, passed through her brain one after an¬ 
other, like a flock of sheep, and then returned singly 
or in groups, and she could not drive them away. 

She heard her sister-in-law come in, move quietly 
about the living-room for a moment, call a low-voiced 
“ Good night,” and, receiving no answer, pass into her 
own room. Virgil, however, was still out, and Omie 
began to think and worry about him, as well. He had 
remarked that he was going for a little while down to 
Jud Amos’s store, and now there rushed back to her 



142 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


mind the message which Sam Slade had given, regard¬ 
ing the threats which the drunken youths had made 
that morning. Had her brother really gone to the 
store, and, if so, had it been merely to chat for a few 
moments with some of their mountain neighbors who 
nightly gathered there to chew tobacco, spin yarns, or 
listen to one of their number draw from a home-made 
fiddle such tunes as “ Black-eyed Susan,” “ Git Along 
Daown Town,” “ Hook and Line,” and “ Cluck Old 
Hen ” ? Or had he gone, rather, for the purpose of 
forming a guard to protect Smiling Pass and its help¬ 
less guest against possible attack? 

The wind had begun to rise again; every now and 
then it spoke with a mournful tone from the forest 
above. Clouds must have gathered over the face of 
the moon, for the creek below no longer shimmered like 
a ribbon of silver. A few drops of rain were driven in 
at the open window, striking upon her heated face. 
The girl jumped up and stood for a moment, with 
her plain nightgown blown close against her form, 
straining her eyes into the darkness which filled the 
valley, but seeing nothing. Then she reached up, un¬ 
hooked the window over her bed, and closed it. 

“Air that you, Omie? ” demanded her mother’s 
sleepy voice from the other side of the thin partition. 
“ What air you dewin’? You hain’t sick, air you? ” 

“ No, no. I was just shutting the window; it’s start¬ 
ing tew rain. Go tew sleep, maw.” 

Omie returned to her bed, but now sleep seemed 
further away than ever. Her thoughts were again all 
of Abe Blount, but with a new twist; of the dangers 
which had surrounded him during so much of his 
career, the threats which had repeatedly been made 
against his life, since he had become Sheriff, and which 
had been far from the menacings of idle men, as had 



NIGHT 


143 


been proven by more than one shot fired from ambush 
previous to the one by which he had actually been 
wounded, twenty-four hours before. And, mixed with 
the prospect of larger service and greater honors in the 
future, was the probability of increased dangers. If 
he were elected to the office of State’s Attorney, and 
should put his announced intentions into execution, 
he would most certainly add to his present feud with 
the moonshiners, still another with the powerful, sinis¬ 
ter group of men who were instrumental in encourag¬ 
ing the simple folk of those hills to make and traffic 
in illicit whiskey. Yes, and yet another with the evil 
element among the laborers in the ever-encroaching 
coal mines, who threatened not only more strikes with 
attendant disorder, but the lifting of the blood red flag 
of anarchy within those hills. 

And now the man who faced all these perils — who 
stood forth like a David, accepting the challenge of the 
Goliath that had invaded their mountain home — was 
no longer the mythical Sheriff Blount, a mere romantic 
name to her, no longer the unreal but shining hero of 
her imagination. He was her friend and “ pal,” who on 
the morrow was going to read “ Alice in Wonderland ” 
to her, whose home in the hills she was soon going to 
plan — a very real person, indeed. 

Again the army of distressed thoughts re-formed its 
ranks, and marched and countermarched through her 
tired brain, which had begun to ache with a dull, meas¬ 
ured throbbing, as though her thoughts were in fact a 
rythmically tramping host. They remained deaf to 
her mental command to halt; but at length, as utter 
weariness overcame her, resolved themselves into two 
absurd phrases which she kept repeating over and over, 
her lips forming the words, “ Moonshiners; coal miners. 
Moonshiners; coal miners.” Once drowsiness, born of 



144 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


exhaustion, slid a distorting glass before her mind, and 
she caught herself changing it to, “ Coal shiners; moon 
miners,” and brought herself back with a vexed little 
laugh at the absurdity of the whole performance, en¬ 
acted against her will. 

“ If I’ve got tew repeat a silly rhyme it might as well 
be a pleasanter one, at least,” she said to herself. And, 
although she had never heard of M. Coue, or the theory 
of autosuggestion, she added, “ I’ll say ‘ The Legion of 
the Cheerful ’ over ten times, and see if that won’t put 
me to sleep. ‘ Dark claouds gittin’ blacker, honey, 01’ 
Man Trouble pressin’ sore? . . .’” and so on to “ ‘ J’ine 
the Legion, you will find hit helps tew shorten many a 
mile. As fer trouble, you won’t mind hit half so much, 
if you jest smile.’ ” 

And before she had gone wholly through the verse a 
second time Omie had fallen into deep, though restless, 
slumber. 

As was inevitable, the girl immediately began to 
dream. At the outset her subconscious fantasies were 
both fragmentary and distorted; but soon the kaleido¬ 
scopic bits began to fall into place and form a changing 
picture so sharp and clear that, on awaking, she re¬ 
membered every detail of it. 

A new cottage-house stood under the shadow of a 
giant sycamore tree, on the knoll where the creek bent 
westward. In a general way it was modeled after the 
House of Happiness, but occasionally it changed shape 
grotesquely. Some one was standing in the doorway— 
a woman whose appearance also altered repeatedly. 
Now it seemed to be herself; now Marion Clayton; 
and now some one uilknown to her. A man appeared 
in the picture, driving an automobile up the creek road, 
and Omie thought, “ Why, it is the very first one ever 
to get up intew these maountains! ” Now it faded, 



NIGHT 


145 


dissolved into an immense mule, from which the man 
dismounted, the animal instantly vanishing, and began 
to climb the hillside. She could recognize him, now. 
. It was Abe, bearing himself with unusual dignity, and 
dressed in dark clothing which seemed to speak of high 
position. His face grew clearer; it was no longer 
homely, but transfigured with an inner light, and his 
eyes were smiling, although his mouth drooped with a 
look of great weariness. 

Now the woman in the doorway was certainly her¬ 
self, and, although she was viewing the scene as a spec¬ 
tator, she clearly experienced the feelings of that other 
self — joy and an almost painful longing to stretch out 
her arms to the man, draw him to her bosom and pro¬ 
tect him — from something. Was she Abe Blount’s 
wife? No, she could not be that, for she felt none of 
the whirlwind of love in her heart, only the love of a 
protector and comforter — a mother’s love. Why, that 
was it! That other woman whom she had not known 
and who now seemed to be strangely confused with her¬ 
self was Abe’s mother! 

The light faded from the picture as a deep shadow 
passed over the scene. The man was not far away, but, 
although he was walking rapidly, he seemed to draw 
no nearer to her, and now her arms were stretched out 
to him. She wanted to gaze and gaze on his coun¬ 
tenance, for it was wonderfully appealing, but some¬ 
thing drew her eyes, irresistibly, to one side — and 
her heart stopped beating, for she saw a dim form 
crouching behind the bushes. She had never seen the 
man before, but instinct told her that it was Abe’s 
cousin, Noah Fugate. He held a rifle and now thrust 
it slowly forward. Abe waved his hand to her, his lips 
smiled and he became wholly himself. She tried, des¬ 
perately, to scream out a warning, but could utter no 



146 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


sound. Now a shot rang out — and the girl started 
awake, crying aloud in terror. 

“ What on earth’s the matter, Omie? ” Virgil called 
the question. 

“Oh! Oh! ” Her breath came in gasping sobs. 
“ Then it wasn’t true? ” 

Her brother opened the bedroom door, and stood 
smiling on the threshold. “ What wasn’t true, sis? ” 
he asked. 

She gave an unsteady laugh, rather hysterical. “ I 
reckon I must have been having an awful dream. He 
— some one got shot. Where have you been at this 
haour of the night, Virgil Gayheart? ” 

“ Oh, just strolling araound a bit. Don’t get wor¬ 
ried— everything’s as quiet as a grave, and Abe’s 
saound asleep. ‘ Got shot,’ you said? Well, the door 
blew tew with a bang, when I came in, but there hasn’t 
been any shooting. Abe’s enemies wisely decided not 
tew come to-night.” 



PART THE SECOND 


ONE YEAR 

IN WHICH THE CROWDING EVENTS OF TWELVE MONTHS 
ARE BRIEFLY EPITOMIZED 




CHAPTER I 


INTERLUDE 

If the complete biography of Abraham Blount is 
ever written — perhaps it would be better to say when 
it is written — several long chapters will necessarily be 
devoted to a chronicle of the crowded legal and politi¬ 
cal events which occurred in those Cumberland moun¬ 
tain regions during the twelve months which elapsed 
between the end of June, Nineteen Twenty-one, and 
the corresponding time a year later. For man and 
events were inseparably linked. 

But the novelist, even when his narrative is founded 
upon historical happenings, whether recent or remote, 
should pick and choose only those incidents which have 
a direct bearing upon the story. He may merely men¬ 
tion in passing, or must reject altogether, a multitude 
of actual events which may, in themselves, have been 
more interesting than were those which he records. 
Oftentimes minor incidents, like those of the June day 
which furnished the subject matter of the first part of 
this history, have a more profound and lasting effect 
on the life and character of the dramatis personae than 
certain great ones which actually influence the course 
of human history. 

Abe’s meeting with Congressman Clayton, his daugh¬ 
ter, and Omie Gayheart, affected his career, both per¬ 
sonal and political, more than did his successful coping 
with a situation which threatened to shake the State to 
its foundations, and might even have become as na¬ 
tionally important as the Herrin Massacre. 

So, although this part of the story deals with these 
149 


150 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


great events, it will be rather a sketchy pen picture than 
a complete setting forth of the events, although a few 
of the incidents may be drawn in some detail, just as a 
painter of historical subjects frequently “ roughs out ” 
upon his canvas some great, dramatic scene, but here 
and there with some care works up, for future refer¬ 
ence, a fragment which he desires to preserve with par¬ 
ticular verisimilitude. 

For our purpose we shall make occasional use of the 
diary which Omie Gayheart began to keep, intermit¬ 
tently, the day after Abe Blount’s arrival at Smiling 
Pass, and also quote part of a long letter which she sent 
to Rose McDonald, soon after their guest had departed, 
his wound cured. She wrote it on the second-hand of¬ 
fice typewriter, by the Hunt & Find system, using the 
index finger of her left hand and the middle finger of 
her right hand. 

“ For once in my life [she wrote] I have been almost 
selfishly glad that you were not here, Smiles dear. For, 
if you had been, I know that Abe would not have wasted 
any time on commonplace me. As it was, I was with him 
almost all the time until school reopened. And it was such 
fun hearing him read aloud and tell stories — goodness 
knows how he ever remembers so many!-—and helping 
draw the plans for his new house, which he is actually going 
to build here. Preacher Billy is simply delighted that Abe 
is coming ‘ home/ and is going to do most of the work on 
it; but Virgil and the boys will help. Of course our saw¬ 
mill will provide the lumber. 

“When school began again and the pupils came back, 
I naturally had to stop being with him so much, partly be¬ 
cause of my work, and partly because of your Rules and 
Regulations. He stayed two weeks in all, and I am sure 
that his being here was wonderful for the children; all the 
girls liked him, although I think that most of them stood 
a little in awe of him, and the boys went simply crazy over 



INTERLUDE 


151 


him. They much preferred to hang about him than to play 
baseball or basket ball, and you should have seen the ‘ pep ’ 
that he put into their Boy Scout drills. 

“ Speaking (or writing) of boys naturally reminds me of 
dogs, and I must tell you about something which happened 
the second day that Abe was here. I was out on the veranda 
when up the creek road, under the gate, and straight up the 
path and steps, came the homeliest, thinnest, long-leggedest, 
clumsy footedest and mournfulest looking 1 haound dawg ’ 
you ever did see! I called to him, but he didn’t pay the 
slightest attention to me. Instead he ran right into the hos¬ 
pital. I followed, and found him with his front paws up on 
the side of Abe’s bed, wagging at one end, but actually cry¬ 
ing with joy at the other. He belongs to Abe, of course, 
and had actually come all the way up from Fayville, hunt¬ 
ing for his master, and found him. I can’t understand how, 
can you? Abe said that they adopted each other about a 
year ago, which seemed fitting, since they were both moun¬ 
tain waifs, and he named him Abraham, after himself, but 
calls him ‘ Ham ’ for short —‘ so that folks will have some 
way of telling us apart,’ he explained. The dog is really 
a lot like him, homely, but amusing and very wise. I love 
him — the dog, I mean. 

“ But I started to tell what Abe did for the children. As 
soon as his foot got well enough so that he could hobble 
about on a huge crutch, which Virgil made for him, he came 
down to the school-house for an hour every afternoon, and 
gave us a series of simply wonderful talks on patriotism and 
law, as part of our Citizenship Training Course. The 
fathers and mothers got to coming, also, and it would have 
done your heart good to have seen how eagerly they listened 
to him, and heard the questions that they asked, showing 
their interest. 

“ I don’t see how he could have learned such a lot about 
conditions all over the United States — it seems to me that 
he knows something about almost everything. A lawyer has 
to, he said. Of course he talked mostly on the necessity of 
obedience to the laws and authorities, and how all Americans 



152 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


seem to be losing their respect for both, now-a-days. Did 
you know that the ‘ crime wave ’ about which so much has 
been written in the papers, did not start with the World 
War, but has been steadily growing during the last fifteen 
years, or more? I didn’t, but Abe says so.” 

What Abe said on the subject, using the simplest 
language and explaining every point carefully, was in 
brief this: With the start of the Twentieth Century 
there was launched a new, and widespread, movement 
towards greater freedom of thought — political, socio¬ 
logical and religious. This was in itself far from being 
a bad thing, although it inevitably follows that, when 
a large number of people deliberately cut themselves 
loose from the things which have stood through the 
ages, unchanged or changing very slowly, they drift 
aimlessly about with the shifting tides for a long time 
before they reach another port where they can tie up. 
And the new one is not always better than that from 
which they put to sea. 

Preacher Billy had been present, and had broken in 
with a quotation from the Apostle Paul, “ Prove all 
things; hold fast that which is good.” Abe had 
agreed that the injunction was wise, but that he pre¬ 
ferred a more progressive, forward-looking command, 
saying that human and social progress is dependent 
upon frequent voyages of discovery into the unknown, 
even though they might temporarily bring unrest and 
other attendant evils in their wake. The race could 
never move onward towards its higher destiny if there 
were no men and women who dared, like Columbus, to 
put out into uncharted seas. 

Revolt from mental and spiritual bondage, the break¬ 
ing of chains forged by tyrannical ignorance during the 
darker ages, was of course commendable; but, unfor¬ 
tunately, such movements are usually accompanied by 



INTERLUDE 


153 


a general breaking down of all restraints, for the time 
being. The enlightened few strive to strike off some 
of the restricting shackles — antiquated beliefs and cus¬ 
toms which have outlived their usefulness — and be 
truly free; the ignorant majority senses the spirit of un¬ 
rest abroad in the world and turn against all law, claim¬ 
ing an equal right. But the freedom which they seek 
is false. 

America had taken the lead in the movement, as in 
most movements towards freedom. She had opened the 
doors of Thought, first and widest. Much that was 
good had come out of them into a life whose horizon 
was larger, whose atmosphere was clearer and more in¬ 
vigorating. But, side by side with the good, had 
crowded much that was evil, and it was still abroad and 
abusing its freedom. 

This, Abe contended, was what underlay and ac¬ 
counted for much of the almost appalling increase of 
crime, particularly since 1910, and why there was a 
larger percentage of criminals among those who had 
been born in foreign lands than there was in the coun¬ 
tries of their birth, as well as among our native Ameri¬ 
cans — they could not stand the atmosphere of unre¬ 
strained freedom. The new disrespect for established 
customs and laws affected all, to some degree; but, with 
the masses, the disrespect was for the fundamental 
laws which spelt safety to mankind; and, unless they 
should be held firmly in check by the hand of the Law, 
itself, until education had mustered itself to aid in the 
work of readjustment, and conditions had stabilized 
themselves, as they always do, in time, “ the last state 
would be worse than the first.” 

Omie’s letter did not go into all this — she jumped 
ahead to the thing which appealed most strongly to her 
young imagination. 



154 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ And what do you think he has done to try to offset it 
in these mountains, at least? He helped us organize a new 
society, which we call the £ League to Promote Loyalty to 
Law.’ * We decided upon the name ourselves, after a lot 
of discussion. Preacher Billy suggested the words ‘ Respect 
for Law,’ but Abe said that, although respect was a fine 
word, it seemed to him sort of passive — like a man sitting 
in a back seat at a Preaching, with his hands folded. Then 
I suggested ‘ Loyalty,’ which I thought sounded as though 
it were ready to fight for a cause, if necessary. I never 
realized, before, that words could be so much like people. 

“ Abe pretended to like it immensely, especially because 
it commenced with an ‘ L,’ which he said was a good square 
up-standing letter. And he wrote out the name on the 
blackboard, beside your ‘ S ’ motto — 



erve always 
ave the helpless 
trive and 
MILE.’ 


“ Then he made another big letter,—‘ L ’ this time,— and 
we suggested the great words for which it stands: Life, 
Liberty, Law, Light and Love. 

“ Of course every member of the Citizenship Club joined 
right away, since all that we had to do was to pledge our¬ 
selves to obey the law, and try to teach others to do the 
same, and, before he left us, a number of the men and 
women had done the same. I got a lot of white feathers 
and painted them with bands of blue and red, and now all 
the boys are wearing them in their caps, and some of the 
men are wearing tiny ones in their hat bands, as badges 
showing that they have joined our League.” 

Noah Fugate’s prophecy that Abe was not much 
longer to remain Sheriff of the county was fulfilled a 

* The writer cannot state whether or not this was the first league 
of the nature started in America, but at least its origin was inde¬ 
pendent of all others, and resulted from the same conditions which 
gave birth to them. 



INTERLUDE 


155 


good deal sooner than any one expected, for Fate seems 
to have been bent upon advancing him, politically, at 
a startling pace — for a time. Before his wounded 
foot was really sufficiently healed so that he could leave 
Smiling Pass with safety, the State’s Attorney died, 
and, largely on the recommendation of Congressman 
Clayton — solicited thereto by his daughter, who was 
still full of enthusiasm over her acquaintanceship with 
“ that romantic Sheriff Blount ”■— the Governor sum¬ 
moned him to the State Capitol. The interview, during 
which each became powerfully impressed with the 
other’s virile qualities, ended in Abe Blount’s receiving 
an appointment as acting State’s Attorney, to serve out 
the unexpired balance of that term. 

Thus his feet were securely planted on the second 
rung of the political ladder four months earlier than 
any one had expected. And he was, moreover, enabled 
to enter immediately and with complete concentration 
upon his new, arduous duties, and that without the ad¬ 
ditional worries attendant upon waging a campaign for 
election. He was now in line to succeed himself in 
the office, unopposed, since his only opponent had been 
removed from the race by the hand of Death. 

A second prophecy was also shortly fulfilled — the 
one uttered by Sam Slade in warning Noah Fugate to 
“ speak pritty,” on the night when they had cut up the 
still owned by Abe’s uncle, since Abe might be called 
upon to prosecute the case against him. As it happened, 
it was the very first case in which the new State’s At¬ 
torney appeared on behalf of the People; a fact which 
increased the interest in it tremendously. 

The comment upon it in Omie’s journal was brief, 
for that evening she was alike too excited and tired to 
write at any length. “ To-day I went down to Court 
for the first time, and heard State’s Attorney Abe 



156 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Blount try the case against the moonshiners who shot 
him. I was never so thrilled in all my life, and just a 
bit frightened, too. P. S. Abe won, of course.” 

In its general aspects there was nothing about the 
trial either to thrill or frighten any one who was famil¬ 
iar with cases of that nature tried in a county court in 
the mountains; but it is not strange that a girl like 
Omie should have been moved to tense excitement by 
the scene. Moreover, it enabled her to visualize more 
vividly the incident which Virgil had described as hav¬ 
ing taken place in that very room, years before, when 
Abe Blount won his title of “ The Little Lawyer.” 
Boy and man, she saw him now — the outstanding 
figure in two gripping dramas. Virgil had allowed her 
to ride down with him, against his better judgment, 
having yielded to her insistent pleas, and he regretted 
his compliance before they had reached the threshold 
of the court room. 

Abe was startled at the sight of her, and, after the 
flash of pleased surprise which had shown when he first 
caught sight of his new friends had quickly faded from 
his face, the shadow of uneasiness fell upon it. Never¬ 
theless, he promptly shouldered his towering way 
through the crowd, which packed the room from wall 
to wall and from the entrance to the counsel’s table be¬ 
fore the Judge’s bench, shook hands with them warmly 
and escorted them to seats up front. 

It was Omie’s first opportunity to look about her; 
she shivered a little and drew closer to her brother’s 
side. Prisoners, jury, witnesses and spectators, they 
were all, in the main, a rudely dressed lot which looked 
much more desperate packed together there than when 
met individually on the hills. Most of those present 
were gaunt and sinewy mountaineers with sullen faces, 
outwardly apathetic in appearance but inwardly filled 



INTERLUDE 


157 


with a smoldering resentment against the prosecutor 
— embers which might readily be kindled into a re¬ 
vengeful blaze, and the girl sensed the fact. Many of 
the men were undoubtedly themselves moonshiners; a 
goodly number were more or less closely related to the 
defendants; the breath of not a few was unpleasantly 
redolent with the smell of “ corn licker.” These lat¬ 
ter made no attempt to keep inaudible their muttered 
threats as to what was going to happen if — 

There was nothing very unusual in all this; but, 
when Omie overheard snatches of such menacing re¬ 
marks directed against the man who, as they put it, 
had “ gone agin his own flesh and blood,” and was now 
“ persecutin’ ” him, icy fingers seemed to grip her 
heart. And they tightened, convulsively, when her 
curious gaze first fell upon Noah Fugate, whose black 
eyes, burning with unconcealed hate under frowning 
brows, were fixed on Abe’s face. The dream was still 
vivid in her memory! 

For his part, the new State’s Attorney appeared cool 
and unconcerned. He conducted the case with a quiet, 
yet forceful, manner, and secured the expected convic¬ 
tion, since there was no defense offered, without hav¬ 
ing allowed so much as a mention of the fact that he 
had been shot by one of the defendants to come out in 
the evidence given by his Deputies. The Court knew 
the whole story, of course, but would not take judicial 
cognizance of it, testimony thereto being lacking. 

The verdict of “ Guilty ” produced an uneasy move¬ 
ment in the crowd, and a renewal of the hostile mut- 
terings; but these speedily changed to expressions of 
astonishment when Abe forthwith proceeded to address 
to the presiding Justice an earnest plea that a fine be 
imposed instead of a penitentiary sentence, in view of 
the fact that two of the defendants were scarcely more 



158 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


than boys, and the other was the principal support of 
an exceedingly large family. It was a simple state¬ 
ment of the case with nothing particularly eloquent or 
dramatic about it, until he came to the part where he 
suggested the amount of the fine. This caused his audi¬ 
tors to gasp, for they knew that no such fine had ever 
been imposed in that Court. Sensation mounted on 
sensation when the Judge promptly accepted the sug¬ 
gestion, and Desty Fugate slouched forward to the 
clerk’s table, extracted a large roll of bills from a 
pocket of his overalls, paid the fine in full — and then 
turned and publicly grasped the hand of his nephew 
and prosecutor. 

Virgil knew something of mob psychology. He gave 
a ^ hurray ” and the fickle crowd set up a shout which 
drowned out the thunderings of the Judge’s gavel, and 
many of those who had come there vowing to “ git ” 
the State’s Attorney, if he got a conviction, stayed to 
cheer him, and to press about Desty Fugate with rough 
jokes upon the financial success of his illicit business 
and offers to go into partnership with him when he 
should start up another little still. And they laughed 
louder than ever, winking broadly, when he insisted 
that he was done with making “ corn licker,” for good 
and all. 

A possible tragedy had been given a happy ending, 
and none, except the principals in the drama, knew that 
it had all been planned out in advance, and that, on the 
previous night, Abe had ridden through the darkness 
up the winding creek to his uncle’s cabin, wormed from 
him a statement of the amount — a pitifully small one 
— which he could pay by way of a fine, and supplied 
the balance of the sum which he and the Judge had 
privately agreed upon out of his own limited bank ac¬ 
count, a loan which he well knew was in effect a gift. 



INTERLUDE 


159 


The demands of Justice must be satisfied; but the ties 
of kinship were strong. 

Desty and his eldest boy were grateful to the point 
of tears, and gave Abe their solemn pledge to stop 
moonshining and keep within the law thereafter. But 
not so Noah. He had maintained a sullen silence dur¬ 
ing the conference, and, at its close, had flung himself 
out into the night, boiling with hot anger at his father’s 
soft surrender. He would not be a party to it, although 
he must, perforce, share in its benefits. Now, the trial 
ended, he started to follow his father and brother out 
of the court room, but paused, as he had done on the 
mountain, to scowl bitterly at his cousin. If looks 
could kill, Abe Blount would not have left the place 
alive. 

Omie had stood up. The youth was now almost in 
front of her, and she started and shrank away from 
him. Her movement must have caught his attention, 
for he turned and looked directly at her. Then an odd 
thing occurred. Noah’s expression underwent a swift 
and complete change. The hate in his eyes vanished, 
and gave place to startled admiration; a deep flush 
spread over his tanned face. Omie shrank back still 
further, paling a little. Then two spots of red appeared 
in her own cheeks, under his fixed gaze. Suddenly the 
boy turned on his heel and almost savagely forced his 
way out through the thinning crowd. 

“ The strangest thing has happened,” wrote Omie. 
“ Noah Fugate was up here this morning, asking to be 
taken in as a student at our school. When I went to 
tell Virgil he was wild and wanted to kick him down 
the stairs; but I persuaded him to talk with the boy, 
thinking that we might be able to influence him along 
the right lines and change his hostility towards Abe 



160 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Blount. By an odd coincidence, Abe himself rode up 
while the two were talking and, in spite of the fact that 
Noah would not even return his friendly greeting, he 
urged Virgil to give him a chance, telling him that, if 
Smiling Pass were to live up to its possibilities, it must 
be ready to lend its influence towards changing the 
viewpoint of just such mountain youths, and saying 
that he felt sure that Noah was in earnest about want¬ 
ing to get an education, and that he would make good. 
So Virgil finally agreed to give Noah a chance. I was 
glad and a little afraid as well. I know that I am go¬ 
ing to dislike him and he frightens me, too; but, if we 
can help to remove one possible stumblingblock from 
Abe’s path, I shall be very happy.” 

Thereafter, Omie’s diary contains various brief ref¬ 
erences to Noah Fugate, who apparently did “ make 
good ” from the start, showing much of the aptitude 
for books which had distinguished his cousin in school 
and college. Also a number of short ones relating to 
Abe himself, which, however, grow more and more in¬ 
frequent as the months pass. During the summer he 
occasionally went to spend an hour or a night at Smiling 
Pass, and the camaraderie which had sprung up be¬ 
tween them at the start of their acquaintance was al¬ 
ways renewed, but the only mention of the proposed 
cottage is found in the words, “ I am too disappointed 
for anything. Abe says that he cannot afford to build 
a house this year, after all. I cannot understand it, 
for I thought that he was making loads of money, as 
State’s Attorney.” 

Noah would have been able to tell her the reason for 
his cousin’s lack of funds, but naturally he kept silent. 

Late that fall appears the last reference to him until 
the following spring. “ Every one,” it reads, “ says 
that moonshining has already greatly decreased in this 



INTERLUDE 


161 


county, thanks to Abe Blount’s wonderful success as 
public prosecutor, and there has not been a single shoot¬ 
ing case this summer. We’re all awfully proud of him, 
and, knowing how very busy he must be, we can for¬ 
give him for not coming up here to see his old friends. 
But it seems as though he might at least write us, once 
in a while, and he hasn’t, once.” 

Abe did, indeed, have a reasonable excuse for not 
paying any visits, for he knew that the price of safety 
in that region was the eternal vigilance of its State’s 
Attorney, backed up by the unflagging influence which 
his example had on the new Sheriff and his Deputies. 
Seven days a week his bare office in Fayville was the 
busiest spot in the county, and many men visited it, 
not a few of them sullen or belligerent upon entering, 
and either smiling or wearing a thoroughly cowed ex¬ 
pression upon departing therefrom. And seven nights 
each week the light shone late from its uncurtained win¬ 
dows. 

As for letter writing, he never did it, unless an answer 
was absolutely required to some communication. 
Lawyer and mountaineer, alike, he disliked the prac¬ 
tice. “ Least said, in writing, soonest mended,” he 
would sometimes drawl with a smile, when taken to task 
for this failing; —but his failure as a correspondent 
hurt. 



CHAPTER II 


BOMBSHELLS 

In so far as any one save himself knew, the State’s 
Attorney was, during the disagreeable winter which 
followed, merely very busily engaged with the routine 
duties of his new office. He kept his own counsel, es¬ 
pecially regarding the thing which he considered as 
most important of all — the preparation of a legal 
bombshell which he hoped would blow to smithereens 
one lawless element in the community. 

Simultaneously other forces were combining to cause 
a far more terrific explosion, which was to shake to its 
foundations an industry employing three-quarters of a 
million men, and the disastrous effects of which were 
to be felt by the whole country. 

Both bombs were timed to explode early in the 
spring. The one so painstakingly prepared by Abe 
Blount, proved to be a “ dud ”— in army parlance — 
yet it caused a marked sensation within certain limited 
and hidden circles, and, in the end, had quite as much 
effect upon his future political career as did the other, 
which made him more than ever the hero. Not, how¬ 
ever, in the same manner. 

Both are mentioned in Omie’s diary. Regarding the 
first, she wrote, “ Virgil has been down to Fayville to¬ 
day, and says that the folks there are all excited, for 
Abe has summoned the Grand Jury in a special session 
which is surrounded with mystery. Nobody seems to 
know just what it is for, but V. thinks that he may be 
going to attempt to indict the men higher up in the 
moonshine business — the organized band which is be- 
162 


BOMBSHELLS 


163 


hind our mountain stills, and which disposes of the 
‘ corn ’ at a huge profit, down in the cities. Preacher 
Billy was here when V. got home, and he was wildly 
enthusiastic. I think that he must be a little proud of 
having coined the phrase which the newspapers all took 
up when Abe was a candidate, for he cried, ‘ Hit’s jest 
as I said. For this we placed the sharp sword uv the 
law in aour David’s hand. Naow he will cut off the 
head of Goliath.’ But V. was not so sure that any¬ 
thing wonderful is going to come of it, and he reminded 
Billy that Abe had got to find the head, before he can 
cut it off, and that it has been pretty well hidden, up 
to now. It made me think of the Cheshire cat, in 
Alice in Wonderland, which Abe read me when he was 
here. Only it was ‘ contrariwise, nohow.’ ” 

To the State’s Attorney’s keenest disappointment and 
chagrin, Virgil’s pessimistic surmise proved to be cor¬ 
rect, It hurt his prestige a little and his pride a lot. 
Secret as he had apparently kept the preliminaries, 
hints of what was in preparation must have been car¬ 
ried to the headquarters of the enemy, and that mys¬ 
terious and powerful organization had just as secretly 
been able to tamper with the bomb and remove most 
of its charge. 

Of course the hearings before the Grand Jury were 
not public, but Abe later confided to Preacher Billy 
that everything had gone wrong from the start. Im¬ 
portant witnesses whom he had summoned at the last 
moment — men whom he knew to be bootlegging “ go- 
betweens ” and whom he had had under surveillance for 
weeks — disappeared, and the place thereof knew them 
no more. He also said that he had every reason to be¬ 
lieve that the majority of the jurors had been success¬ 
fully approached. He could not prove it; but at least 
some of them who were notorious ne’er-do-weels evi- 



164 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


denced a remarkable degree of prosperity soon after the 
event. At any event, the jury was from the start a hos¬ 
tile one, and their findings almost wholly negative. 
Two men were indicted, indeed; but they were merely 
ordinary and ignorant bootleggers, who, throughout the 
hearing and their subsequent trial, stubbornly denied 
that they worked for any one else. They were fined, 
somewhat heavily, and paid without a whimper. 

“ All that I succeeded in dewing, this time,” said 
Abe, dryly, “ was tew stir up a hornets’ nest and get 
well stung for my pains. The worst of it is that I 
don’t know any more abaout them than I did before, 
but they dew know that I’m after ’em. Oh, well, it’s 
all part of the game, and there’s no sense in crying over 
spilt milk; but you might tell Omie, when you see her, 
that her verse about 4 The Legion of the Cheerful ’ 
came in handy, last night.” 

So much for the first explosion. 

The second occurred on the first day of April; but 
it was no joke. On that date commenced the greatest 
coal strike in history. Like fire before a gale it spread, 
West and South, while the Nation, looking forward to 
summer and warm weather for a time, shrugged its col¬ 
lective shoulders and said, in effect, “ Let miner and 
operator fight it out; if we can believe one-half of what 
each side says regarding the other, both are utterly un¬ 
reasonable. At least, it is no affair of ours. There is 
nothing that we can do about it, although we’re sure 
to lose, whichever side wins. The consumer always 
pays, in the end. Indeed, every one says that the opera¬ 
tors aren’t really sorry to have a strike at this time; 
they are overloaded with coal at the mine heads now, 
and it will give them a perfect excuse to boost prices. 
Next winter? Oh, of course there will be coal enough 
by then! Winter is seven months away, and it will 



BOMBSHELLS 


165 


all be settled long before that. Besides, if the trouble 
gets too bad the Government will step in, and make 
them come to terms. Let’s go to the ball game.” 

“ The Government” When are we Americans going 
to realize that the Government is not a detached, self¬ 
functioning and all-powerful entity, but ourselves, act¬ 
ing as, and when, we, the sovereign people, decree that 
it shall, and seldom else? 

But if, during the early weeks of the strike, the Pub¬ 
lic regarded it with annoyed apathy — as something to 
read about in the newspapers and to discuss academi¬ 
cally — the operators and miners’ union knew that they 
were engaged in a bitter fight, which would probably 
go to a finish. The latter, without doubt, not only be¬ 
lieved that its attitude was right and demands just; but 
felt it could force complete compliance with them and 
win decisively, if only it could succeed in restricting 
the output from all the mines to a definite number of 
tons, weekly. The figure was placed at four million. 
If a less amount than that were mined, the time would 
shortly come when not only The People, but Big Busi¬ 
ness, would feel the pinch and raise such an outcry that 
either the Operators would be forced to yield, or the 
Federal Government would be driven to step in and 
assume control of the mines, which would be a virtual 
victory for the miners. Skilled workers would be 
needed, and the strike leaders believed that, with the 
Government in charge, their demands would be 
promptly met. 

In order to achieve the desired result, not only must 
all of the unionized mines be closed down tight, but 
also a very material number of those which were still 
being run on the non-union principle. This, in a nut¬ 
shell, was their problem. How stubbornly they set 
themselves to its solution, leaving no stone unturned, 



166 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


no expedient untried, is a matter of recent history. It 
is enough for our present purpose to state that, within 
a few weeks, the great industry was all but wholly 
paralyzed. Six hundred thousand miners had aban¬ 
doned pick and shovel, and this number included thou¬ 
sands who were not affiliated with the United Mine 
Workers of America; but who had been persuaded, by 
one method or another, that the fight was being waged 
for their equal benefit. 

Victory trembled in the balance! Every additional 
mine closed, every additional miner induced, or coerced, 
to join the ranks of the strikers, brought it closer within 
their reach. Yet many mines in which the United 
Mine Workers had not succeeded in getting foothold 
still remained in operation and were working overtime. 
These must be stopped, somehow! 

The county for which Abe Blount was chief law of¬ 
ficer produced a very material part of the forty-odd 
million tons of coal which were mined, annually, within 
the borders of the State of Cumberland; it contained 
a like proportion of the fifty thousand skilled miners 
who dug the precious carbon from its wooded moun¬ 
tain-sides. And there existed a peculiar situation — 
one fraught with grave consequences. Within that re¬ 
gion the Operators had, from the beginning, bitterly 
fought the Union, but the latter had nevertheless been 
successful in making marked inroads into the territory, 
especially during the four former strikes of 1898, 1912, 
1917 and 1919. The result was that, in not a few 
localities, tunnels and shafts dug, and now deserted, by 
unionized miners were thrust into one side of a pre¬ 
cipitous mountain-side, while on the farther flank of 
the same mountain, within easy rifle-shot from its divid¬ 
ing crest, non-union men were toiling, day and night, 
and the winding single spur track owned by the com- 



BOMBSHELLS 


167 


party was continually rattling with carloads of high- 
grade coal for the country beyond the hills. The op¬ 
posing forces were practically entrenched face to 
face; it was a natural battlefield, the more so because 
of its remoteness from anything like real civilization 
and the restraint of law. It was, in fact, a key posi¬ 
tion. No real towns were there, no military, only the 
Sheriff and his Deputies, regular and special — the 
hated mine guards employed by the operators to pro¬ 
tect their property, and keep meddlers away from their 
workmen. War might there be waged almost without 
interference, it seemed. The strikers knew it; the 
Operators knew it — so did the State’s Attorney, and, 
immediately after his Grand Jury fiasco was over, he 
moved his headquarters into the very heart of the 
region where the battle seemed about to be joined in 
earnest, and prepared to maintain law and order, if that 
were possible. 

Wrote Omie, “ We are all greatly worried about 
Abe, who has gone into the coal fields to try to prevent 
disorder during the strike. There are thousands of 
desperate strikers nearby; there has been trouble in 
the mines already, and V. says that things are warm¬ 
ing up, and that, if Abe starts to interfere, he will be 
in actual danger of his life. Oh, I do hope that noth¬ 
ing happens! ” 

Things were “ warming up.” The United Mine 
Workers had, from the outset, endeavored to induce the 
non-union laborers, especially in the great Iron Moun¬ 
tain Mines, to join their ranks, but so far these had 
remained loyal to their employers, perhaps because they 
were able to work overtime and be paid accordingly. 
The Operators had countered by obtaining injunctions; 
these had been answered by bullets, although the shoot¬ 
ing had been desultory, by the night burning of a tipple 



168 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


and the destruction of a small hoist house. Work con¬ 
tinued; but the mine owners were on the defensive, 
and their workers growing more and more restive — 
held in check by the mine guards who allowed no meet¬ 
ings and no strangers within the gates. The menace 
was growing with every day that passed, and the 
Operators were only too glad to have a man of the 
stamp and reputation of Abe Blount appear to take 
charge of a situation which was fast becoming too much 
for them. To be sure he was only one man; but he 
was fearless and represented the majesty and force of 
the law, at least. There was some comfort for them 
in that thought. 

Almost simultaneously with Abe’s arrival on one side 
of the dividing hills, there appeared in the other camp 
the notorious Tom Lemos, who was almost universally 
known as “ Dago.” It was not his first visit to those 
hills on business , as Abe had reminded Congressman 
Clayton. Dago Lemos was now a picturesque and 
powerful character, the product of environment and 
circumstance combined with hot Italian blood, for his 
father had immigrated from Sicily and become a miner 
in Mingo County, West Virginia, when Little Tomasso 
was a baby. The family had moved westward with the 
march of the industry, and the boy had grown up half 
miner, half mountaineer, equally welcome in coal field 
and cabin, for in his ’teens he had been gay and laugh¬ 
ter-loving, handsome in a dark, striking way, and the 
possessor of a glorious, although untutored, tenor voice. 

But, soon after Dago Lemos became of age, some¬ 
thing occurred which changed the course of his life 
completely. He worked in the mines, off and on, and 
one afternoon a defective cable gave way, a loaded car 
descended upon him, and he received a compound frac¬ 
ture of the leg and other injuries. The company re- 



BOMBSHELLS 


169 


fused him compensation on the ground of contributory 
negligence, he had no money with which to fight the 
case in court, and, in any event, felt certain that he 
would gain nothing by so doing; and thus his employ¬ 
ers callously sowed a seed of bitterness that was to 
grow into a thorn which would eventually pierce the 
whole industry. From a carefree lad, Lemos turned 
into a morose man, almost overnight. He had an ex¬ 
ceptionally keen native intellect, and to his smatter¬ 
ing of education he now began to add the self-study of 
history, economics, politics and socialism. His brain 
developed quickly; but the development was one-sided 
and became more and more warped. Still, his knowl¬ 
edge set him apart from his fellows and made him a 
man of mark. He became an impassioned orator. 
Echoes of his fiery speeches of denunciation reached 
beyond the hills. They came to the ears of the Presi¬ 
dent of the United Mine Workers of America, and 
Lemos was added to the force of organizers. In the 
previous strike he had served with notable effectiveness 
in that capacity, as was well known. Few knew, how¬ 
ever, that he had also acted as financial agent in sup¬ 
plying arms and ammunition to the strikers, and, in 
this capacity, the finesse in intrigue natural to an Ital¬ 
ian, combined with the careless courage of a moun¬ 
taineer, served him well. Both had been spurred on 
by his unrelenting hatred of all Mine Operators. 

By virtue of his position in the union, and his native 
force and ability, he straightway took command of the 
strikers’ forces, now. They had theretofore lacked real 
leadership; but, with his coming, both sides felt that 
horns were soon to be locked in deadly conflict. 

Yet it was Abe who made the first open move. He 
promptly sent Lemos an invitation to meet him, and 
discuss the whole situation in a frank and friendly 



170 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


manner. To this suggestion the other returned the 
curt answer that there was nothing to discuss. That 
very evening witnessed one of the most dramatic events 
of the whole long conflict — one which has never been 
described in print. 

Night was just falling. The western heavens still 
retained the pink and gold afterglow of the sunset; but 
the narrow valley on the eastern side of the dividing 
mountain was filled with deep shadow which had almost 
wholly blotted out the double line of cottages that 
stood, drably monotonous, between the single track, 
skirting the mountain’s base, and the swollen creek. 
Slatternly women, with faces devoid of ambition or 
hope, sat lumpily on blackened doorsteps; pale and 
undernourished children, grimy with coal dust, played 
listlessly among the wandering hogs. Men of many 
nations were gathered in idle groups, smoking in si¬ 
lence or talking in heavy, polyglot voices. 

The evening was unseasonably hot, so that all doors 
were opened wide, and within one of the cottages 
five men might have been seen seated in low-voiced dis¬ 
cussion, around a bare table, holding only a crude oil 
lamp. 

The group was suddenly hidden from the sight of 
those without by a new form silhouetted in the door¬ 
way; the figure of a very tall and lanky man clad in 
rough riding clothes, high boots and an old slouch hat. 

The five within the room glanced up, impatiently — 
and then started from their chairs. Astonishment, 
anger and consternation mingled in their expressions, 
and one of them, a thick-set miner with a coarse, un¬ 
shaven face, hastily reached towards his right hip, 
where a revolver hung in a holster attached to his sag¬ 
ging belt; but he stopped in the act of drawing it when 
another ripped out a command, coupled with an oath. 



BOMBSHELLS 


171 


The latter, who was slender, dark and morosely hand¬ 
some, was the only one that had remained apparently 
unmoved by the intrusion. 

“ Good evenin’, boys,” said Abe, in his amiable, 
drawling voice, as he calmly advanced into the room 
and gave his hat a toss in the general direction of a 
vacant chair. 

Obeying a gestured command from their leader, the 
others resumed their seats; but remained leaning 
tensely forward with their arms resting on the ta¬ 
ble. 

Turning toward Lemos, Abe continued, “ If the 
maountain won’t come tew Mahomet — reckon that 
you’ve met up with the quotation in your reading, Tom. 
Anyhaow, hit’s a nice evening fer a walk, and hyar I 
am.” 

He extended his big hand in a cordial manner, and, 
when the other ignored the greeting, let it fall and rest 
upon the shoulder of the agitator. 

“ I’m right glad tew see you ag’in, Tom. Hit’s been 
fifteen or sixteen years since I last saw you, I reckon. 
You war ‘ da leetla Tomasso ’ then, and I used tew 
tote you araound on my shoulder. Remember? ” 

“ Yuh, I remembera, a’right,” responded Lemos 
shortly. He, too, spoke in the mountain manner, but 
his rich, vibrant voice still held a trace of the soften¬ 
ing Italian dialect. Then his dark eyes flashed, his 
hand, stretched out on the table, clenched. “ You war 
one uv us, then, Aba Blount! You belong tew da 
union yourself, but naow —” 

Both of his shapely hands were flung out, and he 
lifted his shoulder with a gesture of contempt. 

“ Naow the only Union I below tew is the United 
States uv Ameriky, my boy. And, with all hits faults, 
hits still a pretty good one.” 




172 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Lemos bared his white, even teeth with a sneering 
smile. 

“ No. You belonga, body and soul, tew the Opera¬ 
tors, the oppressors. Bah! You’re a turna-coat, Abe 
Blount. Who elected you State’s Attorney? Burke 
Malley — you’d never have got hit widaout hees help.” 

Still unruffled, Abe replied, “ Some one’s been handin’ 
aout misinformation tew you, Tom. Mr. Malley didn’t 
enter intew the affair at all, and, as fer my bein’ a 
‘ turn-coat,’ the only livery I’m wearing at present is 
the Law’s — although I’ve got tew admit that this hyar 
rig don’t look exactly like the robes uv Justice.” 

“ ‘ Justice! ’ ” The other echoed the word bitterly. 
“Huh! Justice that’s-a bought and paid for by the 
rich — the corporations — like hit always is! Thar is 
no real justice, naow, in disa country. I wrote-a 
you —” 

“ I know, I know. ‘ Your’s uv even date received 
and contents noted.’ But hit takes two tew be in 
agreement, as well as tew make a quarrel, Tom, and I 
tuck the liberty uv holdin’ a different opinion as tew 
whether thar was anything tew discuss. I hain’t askin’ 
you-all tew smoke a pipe uv peace, exactly; but jest tew 
talk over the whole situation over a friendly seeg ar.” 

Abe plunged his hand into a breast pocket, produced 
half a dozen cigars of an expensive make and shoved 
them out on the table. None of the miners moved to 
accept the offering and he smiled, whimsically. 

“ They hain’t pizoned,” he said, “ and they’re aout 
uv a box uv the best that the Iron Maountain Com¬ 
pany’s money could buy — generally reserved fer the 
Directors uv that iniquitous corporation. Yes, they 
were a present tew me; but not a bribe — the President 
was kind enough tew remark that he knew I was in¬ 
corruptible— and I’m passin’ ’em along on the same 



BOMBSHELLS 


173 


understand^’. Come, light up. You boys kin regard 
’em as spoils uv war, taken from the enemy, if you’re 
still mistrustful uv my own intentions.” 

“ ‘ Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes,’ ” quoted the 
Italian, glibly. 

The phrase, a handy one for a professional agitator, 
represented the sum total of his acquaintance with the 
Latin classics. 

Abe’s smile broadened as he observed the blank ex¬ 
pression on the faces of the other four, and heard one 
of them mutter, “ Aw, cut out the Dago, and talk 
Americun.” 

“ Fiddlesticks, Tom! I hain’t Greek, nor an enemy 
uv yourn — yet. That’s why I’m daown hyar tew see 
if we kain’t pour a leetle coal oil on the troubled waters 
and prevent their turnin’ intew a ‘ tide,’ and overflowin’ 
their proper banks. I hain’t opposed tew you-all, nor 
tew what you’re fightin’ for. Wasn’t I a miner my¬ 
self, once, and hain’t I got reason tew know what a 
hard life the miner leads? I hain’t sayin’ that thar’s 
not considerable tew be said on the other side, too; 
but I hain’t hyar tew say hit. All that I’m interested 
in is that both sides stay within the law.” 

“ And what make-a you think we hain’t a-goin’ 
tew? ” demanded Lemos, belligerently. 

“ Didn’t say I thought so. I hope tew the Lord that 
you will, Tom. But the contrary’s happened several 
times in the past, and human experience seems tew in¬ 
dicate that what’s occurred once, may again. Well, I 
shouldn’t love fer hit tew happen hyar-abaouts, espe¬ 
cially while I’m State’s Attorney and charged with the 
defense of the law.” 

“The law” repeated Lemos, in the same tone of 
bitter sarcasm which he had employed in echoing the 
word “ Justice.” “ Your law is to-day as much-a a 



174 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


tyrant as was George-a the Fifth in 1775. Personal 
Liberty is dead! Thomas Jefferson wrote—” 

“ Yes, I know. American history’s one uv my hob¬ 
bies, too. The trouble with orators uv your type is 
that you grab a quotation aout uv hits context and 
use hit regardless. Uv course a people has the right 
tew revolt and take up arms against oppression; but 
not until they’ve exhausted every legal and peaceful 
means tew the end. This country’s grown tew be a 
democracy; the majority kin change hits laws — yes, 
even hits form of government — if they like, by means 
uv the ballot. The danger lies in the fact that some 
red-hot reformers want tew get quicker action by sub¬ 
stitutin’ bullets for ballots. Educatin’ the majority, 
and then trustin’ hit tew act right, takes tew long tew 
suit them. Well, maybe aour Uncle Samuel is ailin’, 
some, but the bullet treatment hain’t what he needs; 
hit’s too likely tew end like the operation which was a 
great success — but the patient died. I hain’t sayin’ 
that it don’t act gooselike, in some respects; but hit’s 
the goose that lays the golden eggs — which is why 
most uv us Americans air over hyar. And thar’s cer¬ 
tainly no sense in any uv us gittin’ all het up and 
dewin’ something which may kill hit. The people —” 

Lemos sprang to his feet, hands clenched and black 
eyes kindling. 

“ The people are the geese — a flock uv geese driven 
by the Big-a Interests, like the Mine Operators. What 
chance — what chance, in God’s name, have we — ? ” 

Without raising his voice Abe interrupted, “The 
same chance as any folks workin’ for a Cause. Lastin’, 
worthwhile changes generally come slow. The people 
have tew be educated up tew them. If a Cause is 
right, hit’ll win aout, in the end, every time, bekaise 
the majority will come tew recognize hits rightness. 



BOMBSHELLS 


175 


But many a good one has been hurted, and had hits 
progress delayed, by premature action, especially vio¬ 
lent action. Thar’s no better way uv injurin’ your 
cause than by defyin’ the law, and turnin’ law-abidin’ 
people agin you as a result.” 

“ That’s fine-a preachin’,” scoffed Lemos. “ But 
what abaout your great-a man, Abraham Lincoln? He 
fought for a Cause; he made-a war against the oppres¬ 
sors who kept human beings in slavery. And we — 
we miners — are slaves, to-day. Just slaves uv the 
rich! ” 

Again he thrust out his clenched fists, with his slen¬ 
der wrists pressed together as though bound by invisi¬ 
ble manacles. 

“ Got your history wrong again, Tom. Lincoln didn’t 
resort tew arms until all possible peaceful methods had 
been exhausted, and then hit wasn’t tew free the slaves, 
but tew save the Union. He fought in defense of hits 
basic law, the Constitution; not tew destroy anything, 
but tew preserve. He believed in the abolition uv slav¬ 
ery through legislation, brought abaout by education, 
even if hit should take a long time. Tew be sure, the 
slaves were eventually freed as a war measure, but —” 

“ Well, hit was the war that freed the slaves, just as 
hit was war that freed the French from their oppres¬ 
sors uv the nobility. Sanctissima Maria , is not the les¬ 
son uv history plain, then? ” cried Lemos. 

Again his eyes flashed and he flung his arms wide, 
as though he were breaking their imaginary bonds, as 
he continued. His burst of invective was addressed to 
the State’s Attorney, but obviously meant more for lo¬ 
cal consumption. 

“You was in the Great-a War, Aba Blount! You 
fought against Prussian feudalism! Well, we fight 
against Industrial feudalism, hyar, to-day. Thar is 



176 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


no difference. Those men — those forces uv Greed 
that profiteered withaout-a shame against their own-a 
country, during the Great-a War — are now, as they 
have always been, brutally, mercilessly , tryin’ tew crush 
Labor. They have-a their money, their courts, their 
inhuman mine guards, and they use them all tew grind 
us daown, daown, tew make us labor like animals for 
a chance merely tew live in misery. For, whatever 
may happen, hit is they who are tew blame! Not us.” 
He pounded his breasts with his fists, passionately. 
“ Distrust, bitterness, hatred — it is they who have-a 
created them among us. Do not we, slaves in all but 
name, toil for less than a living wage, at constant risk 
of life and limb, that they may live in luxury with their 
cars, yachts, women? And have-a we even security in 
that employment, and the little wage that they begrudg¬ 
ingly give us — crumbs swept from the rich-a man’s 
table? No! Dio mio y no! We are at their mercy. 
We work when they please; we stop when they say, 
‘ enough.’ Are we not also men, with feelings? Or are 
we tew be driven cattle, withaout rights? You are a 
lawyer. Aba Blount. Have we not the right tew com¬ 
bine for aour own protection? Is not the right uv col¬ 
lective action and bargaining fundamental? Yet even 
this they would deny us, if they could! ” 



CHAPTER III 


THE GAUGE OF BATTLE 

The conclusion of Dago Lemos’ harangue found his 
four companions leaning tensely forward again, with 
the gleam of battle in their eyes. One pounded his 
heavy fist down upon the table. Another burst out 
with, “ That’s right, Dago. That’s the truth, by God! ” 

Only the State’s Attorney remained unmoved. He 
had taken a chair, uninvited, and lay stretched out in it, 
with his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his 
breeches, his legs extended far under the table. There 
was a quizzical half-smile on his lips as he drawled, 
“ Bravissimo, Tom! You’d ought tew be in politics, 
yourself. That was a vote-makin’ speech, and hit 
saounded right convincin’. Only I wasn’t convinced. 
I reckon the trouble with me is that I am a lawyer, and 
have acquired the distressin’ habit uv seein’ both sides 
uv a case. Sometimes I almost wish that I war like the 
farmer who got hisself elected Trial Justice in a coun¬ 
try court. Maybe you know the yarn, but I’ll spin 
hit, anyhaow. Hit war his first trial, and, as soon as 
the plaintiff’s case was put in, the Justice promptly 
faound for him. ‘ But,’ cried the defendant’s attorney, 
jumping tew his feet, 1 Your Honor hain’t heerd the 
testimony on aour side, yet.’ ‘ Don’t want tew,’ replied 
the Court. ‘ I’m afeered that, if I dew, hit’ll mix me 
all up and I won’t know which way tew decide.’ 

“ Thar was a lot uv truth in what you’ve said, Tom 
— and a lot that war only half-truths, also. And half- 
truths air dangerous things tew make up your mind on, 
especially in serious matters. What folks don’t know 
177 


178 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


never does as much harm as what they know that 
hain’t so. Besides, one shouldn’t pass judgment on a 
fifty percent basis, the way the school teacher did when 
he passed the pupil who’d been in the same class for 
three years withaout learnin’ anything. Hold on a 
minute. Hit’s a good story, and I want tew git hit off 
my chest. Story tellin’ is another weakness uv mine. 
Well, the boy’s paw came daown to school on examina¬ 
tion day tew see if something couldn’t be done abaout 
gittin’ his boy through. Said the teacher, ‘ I’m jest as 
plumb tired uv havin’ him araound as you air, and I’ll 
pass him this time if he gits fifty percent on his exam.’ 
Well, he wrote aout two questions for the boy tew 
answer, and when he got the paper back and looked hit 
over he turned tew the kid’s paw and announced that 
he’d passed. ‘ So he did answer one of them right? ’ 
asked the pleased parent. ‘ Yes,’ said the teacher. 

‘ I asked him first when Columbus discovered America, 
and he answered, “ In 1620.” That was obviously 
wrong, uv course. Then I asked him what Dinosauria 
were, and his answer was absolutely right.’ ‘ Really? 
What was hit? ’ inquired the other, and the teacher re¬ 
plied, 1 He wrote, “ I don’t know! ” ’ ” 

For just an instant the suggestion of a fleeting smile 
appeared on Lemos’ face, but it vanished as quickly, 
and he responded, “ This hain’t no time for jokin’, Aba 
Blount.” 

“ Think not? Naow I’d say that thar’s mighty few , 
times that hain’t right for a leetle joke, Tom. A mutual 
laugh has spread the oil uv good feeling on many a 
troubled water, and helped pass off many a crisis. But, 
if you’re dead sot on bein’ unfriendly, I’ll try tew be 
serious for a few minutes, and talk straight, for we’ve 
got tew come tew one kind uv an understanding, any¬ 
way, Lemos. Thar air laws in this country and this 



THE GAUGE OF BATTLE 


179 


caounty which air not goin’ tew be disregarded, if I 
can help hit. You-all have a legal right tew strike, 
and I’m not naow interested in the question uv whether 
or not you’re morally justified in exercising hit, naow 
— I didn’t come over hyar tew j’ine in a debate. You 
also have the legal right tew dew all the unionizing 
you can, provided you don’t employ intimidation or 
threats of violence against the non-union miners who 
want tew stick tew their jobs. On the other hand, the 
mine owners have acted within their legal rights in git- 
tin’ aout injunctions agin your dewin’ those things, 
and —” 

“ And naow you’ve-a joined with the other mine 
guards, thugs and gunmen — Hessian hirelings — that 
the Operators pay tew prevent us from using a weapon 
which may mean-a the difference between victory and 
defeat! Maybe hit’s not a pretty one, but the end jus¬ 
tifies the means. Men are leavin’ the Iron Maountain 
Mines daily and joinin’ aour ranks in this-a fight for 
Industrial freedom. Dew you think we’re goin’ tew 
stand supinely by and see their places filled with scabs, 
money-grabbers, whose price is the bread aout uv our 
children’s maouths? Haow many makea-believe offi¬ 
cers uv the law — Deputy Sheriffs hired and paid by 
the Operators — have you got tew help you crucify 
freedom? ” demanded Lemos with a sneer. 

“ Well, naow, I wouldn’t say that the protection of 
life and property was ‘ crucifyin’ freedom ’ ; but, if you 
insist on puttin’ hit that way, my answer’d be ‘ not any 
more than we need,’ I reckon. But I don’t want you 
tew git me wrong, Lemos. I don’t believe in the system 
uv mine guards any more than you dew; hit’s a present 
evil and a continuing menace. Haowever, they’re a 
fact, and they dew represent the paower of the law in 
these mines, for they’re sworn officers. And hit’s al- 



180 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


mighty dangerous business tew act with violence against 
them, and the law behind them. What I’m anxious tew 
git is your promise that you won’t start anything uv the 
kind, hyar, and that you will obey the injunctions 
which have been served on the United Mine Workers. 
That’s all I’m interested in, for the moment. And I’m 
not representing the mine owners, but the Law.” 

“ Yes, the mine owners’ law! You know which side 
your bread is buttered on, all-a right, Aba Blount; 
you’re just like the rest who get a leetle authority. 
Well, I won’t give-a you that promise! What dew you 
think uv that? And what you goin’ tew dew abaout 
hit? ” 

Lemos sprang to his feet and stood leaning forward 
with eyes burning into those of the State’s Attorney. 
His face was chalky-white, except for two crimson 
spots over the cheek bones. The others also stood up, 
except Abe, who remained as he was, apparently un¬ 
aware of the ring of menacing faces about him. Upon 
his own countenance there was a look of weariness and 
sorrow. For a moment he did not answer. Then he 
spoke in the same quiet tone. 

“ What am I goin’ tew dew? I’m sure I don’t know, 
except that I’m goin’ tew defend the law tew the best 
uv my ability, God helpin’ me.” 

He arose, picked his hat up from the floor, and stood 
for a moment facing Lemos calmly. The latter’s eyes 
were the first to fall. 

“Well, we’ve had aour leetle discussion, anyway. 
I’m right sorry that I hain’t been able tew make you 
see things my way, but at least we understand each 
other. Good night, boys. Better think over what I 
said.” 

Abe stepped out into the darkness. As he crossed 
the threshold, the burly miner drew his revolver and 



THE GAUGE OF BATTLE 


181 


started to follow, but Lemos checked him. “ No. Hit 
won’t dew, Bill. They know that he came daown 
hyar, and if anything happened tew him thar’d be hell 
tew pay.” 

“ Yes, I failed. Well, I hardly expected tew be suc¬ 
cessful; but at least aour talk has cleared the air of 
the mists of uncertainty. Each side knows just where 
the other stands, naow.” 

It was two hours later, and Abe was in conference 
with the officers of the Iron Mountain Mine Company, 
in the small local office of the corporation. He con¬ 
tinued, “ What I told them might have given the 
others pause, but Tom Lemos isn’t the easily fright¬ 
ened kind; he’s been fighting too long. He knows 
haow much is at stake right hyar, and I’ll miss my 
guess if he doesn’t play his hand for all it’s worth. 
That means action, and aggressive action, on his part.” 

“You think that he’ll have ’em actually attack us? ” 
demanded the manager. 

“ Yes. Just put yourself in his place. It means a 
tremendous lot tew the strikers tew have this mine 
closed daown, not only because its production is a ma¬ 
terial item, but because of the psychological effect 
that it would have through the whole region. They 
probably won’t deliberately set aout tew shoot us up, 
although I wouldn’t gamble on what might happen if 
they get a good start — you know haow they feel to¬ 
wards the new men which you have brought in hyar; 
the scabs, as they call ’em. But it’s a safe bet that 
they will try tew wreck your machinery, and burn you 
aout, generally. And, if I’m not mightily mistaken, 
it’ll happen soon, probably to-morrow night. They 
know, naow, that the law, as represented by yours 
truly, is theoretically ready tew back you up, at least 



182 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


tew the extent of safeguarding lives, property and the 
miners’ right tew work, and the longer they delay the 
greater will be the chance for us to make adequate 
preparations against attack.” 

“ Why not to-morrow morning, then? ” 

“ No. A night attack is the natural thing. Occur¬ 
ring in the dark, it would throw a greater scare intew 
your workmen, and, moreover, the attackers would be 
less likely tew be recognized and arrested later. It’ll 
be at night, and I’ll bet my hat twenty-four hours from 
naow.” 

“ Whew! ” The manager passed his hand across his 
perspiring forehead. “ What are you going to do about 
it? ” 

It was not “ what are we going to do? ” 

“ That’s exactly what Dago Lemos asked me, when 
he practically threw down the gauge of battle. I an¬ 
swered, then, that I didn’t know. I dew know, naow. 
Where’s your telephone operator? ” A young man 
stepped briskly forward. “ Get me the capital, Execu¬ 
tive Mansion. I want tew speak with the Governor, 
personally, and it’s up tew you tew get him, even if 
he’s sick a-bed.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

The operator had been in the army, and knew how 
to take orders where no excuses went. After he had 
put in the long-distance call the others sat and smoked, 
or paced the room and smoked, seldom speaking even 
to each other, after Abe had failed to answer two or 
three questions. He had fallen into a brown study. 
After what seemed to the rest an interminable time, 
the telephone bell rang, and faintly over the singing 
wire came the words, “ The Governor will speak to 
State’s Attorney Blount. Put your party on the line.” 

“ Hello? Is this the Governor? This is Abe Blount 



THE GAUGE OF BATTLE 


183 


speaking — oh, I’m dewing pretty well, thanks — yes 
— I called up regarding the strike situation, hyar, Gov¬ 
ernor — yes, getting kind of torrid —” 

For five minutes the one-sided conversation, as far 
as the listeners in the office were concerned, continued. 
Then Abe said, “ Yes, Your Excellency, I will take all 
of the responsibility. Thank you. Good-night.” 

Night had come again. There was no moon, but the 
sky was clear and star-lit. At the Iron Mountain mine 
those who had labored in the bowels of the earth, like 
ants, all day, had retired to their crowded cottages, to 
sleep the sleep of physical weariness untroubled by 
phantasies of the brain. Lacking imagination, they 
were kept awake by no stalking fears of an attack upon 
them, and they had been strictly guarded from all 
rumors of what probably impended. Nothing out of 
the ordinary had occurred during the day, and only 
the mine guards knew what the night might bring forth. 
They, however, were all awake and alert and two of 
their number, ex-service men, had been detailed by the 
State’s Attorney to steal up the mountain-side, into the 
new No-Man’s Land, and keep watch for the first sight 
or sound of an attack from the enemy’s camp on the 
farther side. If it should eventuate, they were under 
orders to signal the fact by means of a pocket flash¬ 
light, and then return as silently and quickly as possi¬ 
ble. 

A few drowsy lights still shone, here and there, in the 
cottage windows, but one after another these eyes were 
closed, as their owners sought their beds. Finally but 
one room remained illuminated, the little office where 
Abe and the company officials sat, with windows wide 
open to the balmy spring air, talking in low tones; lis¬ 
tening and watching the darkened hillside constantly. 



184 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


If the attack should materialize in accordance with 
Abe’s prophecy, they were prepared for it, they felt; 
but if anything went wrong — 

An hour passed; two. The silence out of doors re¬ 
mained unbroken save for the usual night sounds and 
the steady murmur of the near-by creek. The watchful 
waiting began to get on the nerves of some of them. 
They smoked incessantly, and talked the same; all ex¬ 
cept Abe, who stood by the window and gazed up at 
the black hillside. From base to summit the land had 
once been his ancestral acres. The cabin where his 
mother had been born and lived her carefree girlhood, 
until cast out by a cruel moral code, had once stood on 
almost the exact spot where he was now standing. 
Why should he be there, defending the property which 
had, to all intents and purposes, been filched from his 
family by the company which now owned it, and in 
whose pay Lemos had declared him to be? For a bare 
instant the thought passed through his mind, “If the 
impending attack should be successful the corporation 
will suffer heavy financial loss. Might it not be retribu¬ 
tion for past evils, the responsibility for which lies at 
its doors? ” He banished the idea with a somewhat 
bitter smile, and half-whispered, “ That’s enough of 
that; you must be getting a case of nerves, too, Abe 
Blount.” Yet the feeling of strangeness and unreality 
persisted for a time, and he found himself speculating, 
in a detached sort of way, on the impersonality of the 
Law and of Duty. One who obeys their dictates must 
needs be prepared at time to oppose the friend and 
protect the foe, regardless of personal considerations. 

“ It’s too dark, to-night. They won’t come now . . . 
and I don’t believe that they ever will,” finally ex¬ 
claimed the Manager, with relief and disappointment 
curiously mingled in his tone. Somewhat peevishly, 



THE GAUGE OF BATTLE 


185 


he added, “ H— 1 , the everlasting waiting, waiting, 
waiting, is getting my goat! ” 

“ Don’t give up hope. We may all ‘ git aourselves 
shotted ’ to-night yet,” smiled Abe. “ Seriously, I’m al¬ 
most dead certain that they’ll come, especially since 
that guard sent back word that he had almost run 
plumb into an enemy’s spy, watching us from the top 
of the maountain. The darkness won’t stop ’em. They 
can use torches in climbing the other side, and there 
are lights enough daown hyar tew guide them after they 
come ‘ over the top.’ Perhaps they’re waiting for us 
tew close up shop and go home. Let’s see what giving 
the appearance of having done so will produce.” 

He pulled down the shades to the windows on the 
easterly side of the office and stepped outside the door 
to continue his watch for the expected signal flash. 

It came, a very few moments later, almost as though 
in answer to his challenge. Abe and the others, who 
had been standing beside him, ran back into the office, 
and the State’s Attorney cried, boyishly, “ The play’s 
abaout tew begin! Hyar goes the curtain.” 

He stepped to the end window which faced down the 
mountain pass, and pulled down and raised its shade, 
three times. A quarter of a mile or more distant, at 
the point where the spur track disappeared from day¬ 
light view around a shoulder of the hill to the North, 
a trainman’s lantern answered the signal, and a moment 
later came the sound of a crescendo rumble and rattle 
as a long string of apparently empty coal cars followed 
their blustering little engine around the curve and 
headed down the track toward the mine. They had 
lain there, just out of sight, for several hours, lest their 
earlier appearance should evoke the curiosity of some 
miner who might be friendly to the strikers’ forces. 
On it came, now, at a crawling pace which occasionally 




186 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


ceased with a jerk, to be resumed again with much 
jangling and grinding while the little engine panted 
from its exertions, quite as though it were nothing more 
than what it appeared to be — a train of “ empties ” 
returning to the mine to be in readiness for the mor¬ 
row’s loading. It came to a final stop on the siding 
beneath the tipple at the main minehead; the crew ran 
about, uncoupling the engine, swinging their lanterns 
and calling out to one another in everyday tones. 
Then they, too, departed to their bunk house, entered 
and closed the door. 

Silence again. Now the group which stood in the 
darkness on the office steps, behind the new sectional 
rampart of steel cars, could from time to time catch 
faint sound from up the mountain-side, which their 
imaginations magnified into the tread of a small but 
determined army making its way downward through 
the forest, bearing weapons of destruction — torch and 
dynamite, revolver and rifle. 

The intermittent sounds multiplied, and then sud¬ 
denly ceased entirely. There came a hush, a tense 
moment for the watchers, who guessed that the ad¬ 
vancing force had paused to assume some rude forma¬ 
tion and receive its last orders before the final rush 
across the cleared stretch at the base of the mountain, 
the planned surprise assault upon the sleeping camp, 
which was to arouse the hated “ scabs ” from their ill- 
earned slumber and drive them, mad with terror, into 
the night, while the darkness should be filled with 
shouts, the crash of explosives, the lurid flames of 
burning homes. 

Then from the hillside came a cry, in a voice which 
Abe Blount recognized instantly. It was some hundred 
yards away, but not so distant that the note of fanatic 
hate in it was lost. A hundred other excited voices 



THE GAUGE OF BATTLE 


187 


caught up the shout, and simultaneously the edge of the 
wood burst into flaring light, and the illumination from 
many torches disclosed a line of dark forms, alike gro¬ 
tesque and menacing, as they charged noisily downward 
across the stubbly ground. 

“ God! ” gasped the manager, as he clutched Abe’s 
arm. “ If anything goes wrong—” 

The suspended sentence was scarcely out of his 
mouth before the answer came with dramatic sudden¬ 
ness. Yet, like most startling denouements, it had 
been planned out with minute care, in advance. 

The apparently empty coal cars sprang into sharp 
relief under the glare from acetylene torches, simul¬ 
taneously lighted, and there stood revealed a double 
line of soldierly forms, clad in khaki, wearing shallow- 
crowned helmets of steel and armed with rifles — a full 
company of National Guardsmen, sent by his Excel¬ 
lency, the Governor, to meet the threatened crisis. 

The commander uttered a crisp command, the rifles 
flashed up to the horizontal, and the crash of a volley 
aimed toward the mountain top echoed back from it, 
sending a sharp thrill through the watchers. 

The ragged line of advancing strikers stopped in 
their tracks, in consternation and surprise which held 
them for an instant voiceless. Then a medley of oaths 
and shouts broke forth, mingled with startled cries and 
excited questions from many a window in the surround¬ 
ing cabins. The voices of the mine guards joined in 
the clamor as they ordered the miners to get back, in 
no gentle tones. 

Again the command and rifle crash! This time tiny 
spurts of dust appeared on the mountain-side not so 
many yards in front of the attackers. Their line wav¬ 
ered, broke and began to move backwards, in spots 
precipitately, in others with rebellious slowness. Fists 



188 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


and torches were shaken in impotent wrath, and curses 
rained down upon the soldiery. 

A third volley, aimed a little higher, and the last 
torch was flung to the ground, the last striker turned 
and ran madly for the cover of the forest. 

Then, and not until then, the renewed darkness on 
the mountain-side was pierced with flashes as the disap¬ 
pointed attackers, carried away by anger and disap¬ 
pointment, turned and fired a number of shots at ran¬ 
dom. For luck the soldiers let drive a fourth round, 
and then, laughing and shouting like schoolboys on a 
lark, piled out of the cars where they had been lying 
cramped up, and made for the office, whither they were 
called to celebrate the victory with coffee and sand¬ 
wiches. 

There they found the State’s Attorney the center of 
an excited, hilarious group of officials and guards, every 
one of whom was insisting on shaking his hand and 
slapping him on the back, while they all talked at 
once. 

During a momentary let-up in the jabber, the mana¬ 
ger was heard, saying, “— like clockwork. Our plans 
were absolutely perfect, and I’ll tell the cock-eyed 
world that we handed ’em a jolt, this time.” 

It was “ our ” and “ we,” now. 

Abe smiled, a trifle soberly. 

“ Well, I shouldn’t be surprised if a few maountain 
climbing records were being busted, abaout naow. 
What happened ought tew put the fear of God intew 
’em for a while, but to-morrow I think that I’ll supple¬ 
ment the bullets with a billet tew my friend Lemos, 
not with any idea of rubbing it in, but just as a hint 
that, although the reception committee may be changed 
a little, it will continue in readiness for any future calls. 
The company should be able tew raound up a consider- 



THE GAUGE OF BATTLE 


189 


able number of extra guards and ship them up hyar, 
within a few days, and the effect of to-night’s enter¬ 
tainment won’t wear off for that long, over yonder.” 

“ Right! Say, what are you so serious about? You 
look about as cheerful as though we had taken the lick¬ 
ing,” declared the manager. 

“ Fiddlesticks! Of course I’m mighty glad the way 
things turned aout, and especially that we gained a 
bloodless victory, from all appearances. But I can’t 
help feeling sorry that it was necessary tew win it in 
this way. It was necessary, I know that; lives and 
property had tew be protected, the law upheld. But 
it’s bad business, this having tew oppose force tew 
force, this resorting tew arms tew uphold the law or 
settle arguments between factions in a civilized com¬ 
munity, especially arguments between Capital and La¬ 
bor— which is a much abused and misleading term, 
in my opinion. It confesses a failure in Democracy. 
It’s like sowing dragons’ teeth.” 

“ Oh, piffle, yourself! ” retorted the manager. “ You 
sound like Admiral Sampson with his, ‘ Don’t cheer, 
boys, the poor devils are dying.’ Let ’em die, I say. 
You’re great on spouting Shakespeare — didn’t he 
write something like ‘ Those who take the sword shall 
perish by the sword? ’ What’s that? Out of the Bible, 
was it? So much the better, although I didn’t think I 
knew any quotations from that. Oh, well, go ahead 
and moralize, if you like. I suppose it’s natural after 
a war is over, and — Say, what’s the matter with your 
face? ” 

He pointed, and Abe raised his hand to his cheek. 
It came away smeared with blood. 

“Well, that’s funny, naow,” he said. “I heard a 
bullet zip past my ear, but didn’t realize that it gave 
me a close shave on the way. Reckon I must have 



190 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


been more excited than I thought. That makes twice 
I’ve been nicked — once at each extremity. Wonder 
where I’ll get the inevitable third, according tew super¬ 
stition? ” He laughed as he began to stanch the slight 
flow of blood with his handkerchief; but, when the 
excited exclamations broke out afresh, he became seri¬ 
ous, and interrupted with the words, “ Dew me a favor, 
boys, and keep this scratch dark. I don’t want the 
newspapers tew be making a wounded hero aout of 
me, again, for it’s darned nonsense. Somebody pass 
me a cup of coffee and a hot dog, will you? ” 



CHAPTER IV 


THE CREST OF THE WAVE 

Two days later the State’s Attorney went to Cumber¬ 
land City for an important conference, and, as he 
stepped from the train in the late afternoon, the first 
persons whom he saw were Congressman Clayton and 
his daughter. Indeed, Marion Clayton caught sight of 
him first, called to him, and, when she learned that he 
was planning to stay over night in the city, insisted 
that he make their home his stopping place. Abe 
would like to have refused, for he was tired and had a 
premonition that, if he went with them, he would have 
little rest during the evening. But he did not know 
how to refuse, and Miss Clayton put an early end to 
his hesitation by throwing open the door of the sedan 
which she was driving and bidding him get in beside 
her father. The two men shook hands cordially. 

Without waiting for the Congressman to say more 
than a word of greeting to their guest, Marion cried, 
“ Oh, have you seen yesterday’s papers yet? No? 
Well, just wait until we get home. I’ve saved them all, 
for the stories abaout you are simply thrilling . My, 
but I’m praoud, acting as chauffeur for a hero and a 
Congressman, simultaneously.” 

“ But I’m not a Congressman, yet,” smiled Abe, and 
she retorted, “ Who said that you were? Almost any¬ 
body — even dad — can be one of those things, but a 
real hero is quite a different matter. Oh, don’t try tew 
look so modest. Of course modesty becomes you and 
is what one would expect, in your case, but just wait 
until you see haow the press have pictured you! ” 

191 


192 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Dew we pass a hat store on the way tew the 
haouse? ” inquired the object of her remarks. 

“No; but, if your head should be enlarged, you can 
borrow one of dad’s hats,” replied the girl, flippantly. 
“ Isn’t he too impressive for anything as he acknowl¬ 
edges the salutes of the bourgeois? ” 

Indeed, Mr. Clayton had an impressive way of re¬ 
sponding to the bows and hand waves of passing pedes¬ 
trians who recognized him. Once their car was held up 
for a moment at a busy street crossing, where quite a 
crowd was collected on the sidewalk, and some one 
called the general attention to the presence of the 
State’s Attorney, whereupon a spontaneous cheer broke 
out. Abe felt himself growing red and tried to shrink 
farther back, out of sight. The Congressman laughed, 
pushed him forward into view and nodded and smiled 
towards him, the crowd responding with a second 
cheer. 

“You see, Marion was right, as usual,” he said. 
“ You, not I, are the cynosure of all eyes to-day. 
Capitalize it, my boy. Popularity is as fleeting as 
Time, and, like it, should be seized by the forelock. 
Drop me at the next corner, please, dear. Being forced 
to play second fiddle has put my nose aout of joint — 
and I’ve also got something tew attend tew at the of¬ 
fice. I’ll walk home, humbly, and be there in time for 
dinner. We men won’t bother to dress, for, from the 
size of Abe’s bag, I assume that he didn’t come pro¬ 
vided with his ‘ soup to nuts.’ ” 

“ I don’t own one,” said the State’s Attorney, un¬ 
ashamed. 

Marion chatted volubly and entertainingly, during 
the rest of the ride, and, when they had reached the 
imposing southern mansion where those by the name 



THE CREST OF THE WAVE 193 


of Clayton had lived for generations, and a colored 
maid with a vast expanse of ivory teeth had departed 
to carry his bag to one of the guest chambers, she led 
him into the library, and thrust into his hands a bundle 
of newspapers. 

“ There,” she said, “ Read, mark, learn and inwardly 
digest those , Sir David. I’ve got tew run along and 
make myself presentable. Of course, we’ll dine en 
famille y as daddy said, but at present I’m a sight.” 

“ There are sights, and sights ” responded Abe, with 
sincere appreciation. 

Indeed, the girl, in her tailored brown motoring suit, 
with hat, gloves, silk stockings, and shoes to match, and 
all to match her hair, now slightly disordered by the 
wind which had blown roses into her cheeks, made an 
effective picture of fashionable Southern womanhood. 

“ Don’t try to turn flatterer, sir; it doesn’t come nat¬ 
ural.” 

Marion ran gayly from the room, and, after Abe 
had gazed curiously around at the expensive and taste¬ 
ful furnishings, and especially at the bookcases filled 
with hundreds of finely bound volumes, which showed 
few signs of wear and tear, he applied himself to the 
marked articles in the papers. 

After reading the first one, he laughed, and thought, 
“ I wish I knew whether or not I’d be making an un¬ 
pardonable social error if I lit up my pipe. I enjoy 
fiction twice as much when I’m smoking.” 

He decided not to take the chance, but nevertheless 
chuckled frequently as he skimmed over the other 
stories of the bloodless battle of which he had been the 
hero; all of them agreed on that point, most of them 
referred to Preacher Billy’s allegory and called him 
“Our David,” and one added a biographical sketch 
which the writer had made highly entertaining by sup- 



194 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


plying from a vivid imagination what he lacked in 
actual knowledge of the facts. 

The last one ended with, “ We may all well share 
with our neighboring county the pride which it justly 
takes in its chief Law Officer. His well-known personal 
bravery, the promptness with which he met the recent 
emergency, and the skill with which he handled a situa¬ 
tion fraught with the gravest dangers and consequences 
have now made him a figure of state, if not nation¬ 
wide, interest, for the coal strike affects the entire coun¬ 
try and the eyes of all are turned on the coal fields 
where the battle is being so desperately fought. Abe 
Blount’s action was, on a smaller scale, like that of 
Theodore Roosevelt, and if the nation had a few more 
like him in authority, to-day, the United Miners of 
America would not be able long to cripple a vital in¬ 
dustry.” 

“ Hurray! ” exclaimed Abe, half-aloud. “ That editor 
heard his master’s voice, all right. He’s tied me up 
tighter’n a drum as the special champion of the In¬ 
terests, or thinks he has.” 

“ State’s Attorney Blount,” the article concluded, 
“ has proved himself both efficient and faithful over a 
few things, and it will be strange, indeed, if time does 
not make him master over many. From now on he is a 
marked man, politically, and in line for rapid advance¬ 
ment.” 

He had barely finished his reading when Marion 
Clayton danced back into the room, appearing like an 
incarnate vision of The Springtime of Life. Her gown 
was extremely simple, a clinging white shimmering 
affair, girdled high. Her hair had received attention 
from the dusky, but expert, fingers of her maid, and 
the studied simplicity of its arrangement, coupled with 
the deliberate omission of jewelry from her bare arms 



THE CREST OF THE WAVE 195 


and neck, made her appear not only charmingly sweet 
but surprisingly youthful —“ almost as girlish as Omie 
Gayheart,” thought Abe, who found himself wonder¬ 
ing how the child of the mountains would fit into his 
present environment. It was merely a passing thought, 
for he was suddenly rather ill at ease, alone with this 
exquisite society girl in her city home, amid surround¬ 
ings indicative of wealth and social refinement. 

The feeling, however, did not prevent his frank and 
sincere admiration from showing forth in his gaze, and, 
as accustomed as Marion Clayton was to Southern eye 
and lip flattery, she felt herself flush a little. The un¬ 
usual sense of embarrassment caused her to laugh a 
little artificially, as she indicated the pile of newspa¬ 
pers, and said, “ Well, what dew you think of them, 
especially the editorial? ” 

“ Wonderful! Who is the fellow that they’re mak¬ 
ing such a fuss abaout? I didn’t recognize him.” 

“ Oh, of course you’d make fun of your fame, it’s 
like you,” retorted the girl. “ Just the same, I’ll bet 
that you were pleased tew be able to see yourself as 
others see you, and find that the regard is so flattering, 
no, ‘ commendatory ’ is a better word, I reckon. I’m 
personally as proud as Punch on account of my distin¬ 
guished friend and present guest.” She made him an 
elaborate curtsey. “ And the best part of it is that it’s 
deserved, Abe. You’ll let me call you Abe, won’t 
you? ” 

“ Of course! Why shouldn’t you? — everybody 
does.” 

“Why not, indeed, since we’re real friends. And 
don’t forget that it works both ways. I’m tew be plain 
‘ Marion ’ to you.” 

“ You couldn’t be -—‘ plain,’ I mean. But Marion it 
is, if you say the word.” 



196 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ I suppose that we should shake on that,” she 
laughed, and they clasped hands heartily. “ And naow 
let’s talk abaout you. It isn’t often that I have a 
chance for a tete-a-tete with a real live hero. Haow 
does it feel to have people cheer you, and have the 
newspapers praise you tew the skies? ” 

“ Well, it strikes me that the cheers were pretty 
feeble, and the stories pretty foolish. The papers have 
tew fill up space, somehaow, and, in this case, it’s easy 
tew guess from whom they took their cue. In helping 
tew protect lives and property, I happened tew dew a 
favor tew the Coal crowd, and while their gratitude is 
still warm they’re rewarding me by anointing my head 
with the oil of flattery, poured on a bit thick, and 
probably for a reason. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said 
that, for it saounds both ungrateful and pessimistic, but 
— well, praise is a coin that doesn’t set the spender 
back anything, yet frequently has a high purchasing 
paower, as everybody knows. As for the yells, that 
incident was merely a sample, on a mighty small scale, 
of what Roosevelt called ‘ public hysteria,’ and it 
doesn’t mean anything. A man who’d get puffed up 
by a little 4 wind ’ like that would be a toy balloon, and 
I hope I’m not one. I just had a piece of luck which 
landed me, sitting pretty, on the crest of a wave, but 
waves pass and each is followed by a trough, intew 
which a man often drops aout of the public eye in a 
hurry. If I can keep from getting tew feel too high 
and mighty, naow, perhaps I won’t be so greatly cast 
doawn, when I fall intew mine.” 

“ That may be good philosophy, but I don’t believe 
that you’re going tew fall. Don’t you remember what 
dad said abaout you, when we met you up at that 
fascinating Smiling Pass? ” 



THE CREST OF THE WAVE 197 


“ Is he really seriously thinking of quitting public 
life? ” 

“Well, of course I don’t know, for sure; but he 
talks a lot abaout dewing it. I’ll miss Washington, 
fearfully,” she added. “ The life there may be artifi¬ 
cial, but it certainly gets intew the blood, in time. You 
see I went there when I was — gracious I almost gave 
myself away, then, for, of course, you know haow long 
daddy has been in Congress.” 

“ And a woman’s age is one secret which she must 
and can keep.” 

Abe’s eyes twinkled. 

“ Precisely! Her years, like her ears, must never be 
uncovered to any one except members of her immedi¬ 
ate family. That’s axiomatic, naowadays.” 

The breezy arrival of Mr. Clayton, and the summons 
to dinner which followed almost immediately, put an 
end to their dialogue. Abe was obliged to describe, in 
detail, the happenings at the Iron Mountain mine; but 
as soon as possible he changed the conversation. Na¬ 
tional and State politics were discussed to some extent, 
but Marion Clayton early insisted that she was tired 
of hearing h§r father “ talk shop ” everlastingly, and, 
to his surprise and relief, Abe found himself heartily 
enjoying an evening of informal sociability, story¬ 
telling and music, for his hostess played the piano well, 
and sang pleasingly, if with a voice which showed more 
careful training than natural quality. 

That night he slept the sleep of healthy tiredness on 
a mahogany bed with box spring and tufted mattress, 
between sheets of the finest linen and in a bedroom 
perfectly appointed. The next morning he enjoyed the 
unaccustomed luxury of shaving and taking a shower 
in his own private bathroom, spotless in shining tile 



198 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


and enamel, and, on taking his leave, soon after a 
bountiful Southern breakfast, he said, with perfect sin¬ 
cerity, that he had never enjoyed an overnight stay so 
much. In return the Claytons insisted that he make 
their home his own as frequently as possible. 

His home! As Abe Blount walked, alone, the few 
blocks from the Clayton house to the business build¬ 
ing where his morning conference was to be held, he 
suffered a pang of homesickness for what he did not 
have, and probably never would have in the fullest 
sense of the word. It was all the more acute because 
of his helplessness and hopelessness. Well, at least he 
could and would make the most of what life did hold 
for him in that respect, and not forfeit his membership 
in The Legion of the Cheerful. 

With the thought came again the recollection of 
Omie, youthful, natural, unsophisticated; the soul of 
mischief and merriment, yet the possessor of a real pur¬ 
pose. The memory of the child-woman, whom he had 
not seen for almost a year, completely effaced, for the 
time, that of the one whom he had just left and who had 
really made a strong impression upon him, as could 
not well have been otherwise. How fine and sweet a 
little comrade the mountain girl had been, to be sure! 
And how eager she had been for him to build a steal- 
away place at Smiling Pass. He would build it, with¬ 
out further delay, and make it as nearly a real home as 
might be, a little cottage wholly unlike the mansion 
which he had just quitted, but for that very reason 
better suited to his present need, and perhaps forever 
more befitting his mode of life and simple tastes. 

Abe was the first of the conferees to arrive at the of¬ 
fice of the State’s Attorney for that county, and, under 
the powerful sweep of desire, he forgot his habitual an¬ 
tipathy to letter writing, borrowed pen, paper and ink 



THE CREST OF THE WAVE 199 


from the stenographer and scrawled a brief but enthusi¬ 
astic note to Omie. 

“ Dear Chum [it ran]: I am certainly going to make you- 
all at Smiling Pass a visit, if only a flying one, before an¬ 
other fortnight joins the ranks of the departed days, and I 
hope that you will have at least one set of plans drawn for 
my proposed hill-castle. Pm determined to build it, this 
summer, and ‘ the quicker the sooner.’ (I knew a contractor, 
once, who had his business cards printed with the motto, 
* Houses Built While You Wait.’) As you will see by the 
heading on this paper I am in Cumberland City, and last 
night I had the unique pleasure of dining and sleeping at 
the home of a Congressman. A beautiful home it is, too; I 
wish that you might see it. The Claytons took their cue 
from the newspapers and made a hero of me, at the start, 
but I ended up more like one of the family, and few heroes 
long retain their glamor under such circumstances. Marion 
expressed a wish to be most cordially remembered to her 
friends at Smiling Pass, when I should see them again, and 
called you £ a dear.’ Sincerely — no, affectionately, yours, 
Abe.” 

A day later Omie read this letter with strangely 
mingled feelings. 

“ What are you looking so doggone serious abaout, 
Abe; have you fallen in love? ” 

Virgil was the questioner. Two weeks had sped by 
and the State’s Attorney had finally torn himself away 
from his crowding duties and come to spend a night 
with his friends at Smiling Pass. Now the little group 
were seated on the veranda before the House of Happi¬ 
ness, Abe, Virgil, Preacher Billy, Omie and Camille, 
waiting for the bell to summon them to supper. Again 
it was June and the time of the brief spring vacation 
at the school. Peace and quiet reigned, undisturbed, 



200 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


and the special guest had lapsed into a deep reverie 
which made his homely countenance appear somber 
and very weary. 

Abe shook himself free of the spell which the quiet 
of the spot, following his enthusiastic greeting, had 
cast over him. With a hearty laugh he answered, 
“ Not quite as bad as that. If I look serious it’s be¬ 
cause I’ve just taken a serious step, and perhaps put 
my foot in it. In short, friends and fellow country¬ 
men, I’ve gone and went and done it.” 

“ Done what, Abe? ” demanded Omie. 

She had grown physically and matured in many 
ways during the year that had passed, and their visitor 
had quickly marked the change and new reserve, with 
somewhat of a pang of disappointment, if the truth 
were known. 

“ Annaounced myself as a candidate for election tew 
Congress this fall.” 

“ No! ” “ Hurray! ” “ Bully for you, Abe! ” 

Virgil and Billy sprang excitedly to their feet and 
fell upon him, shaking his hand and clapping him on 
the back, while Camille smiled and Omie threw her re¬ 
serve to the mountain winds and danced about, her 
blue eyes shining, her breath coming fast. After all 
there was still much of the primitive in each of them. 

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Abe! I’m so praoud and 
happy,” cried the girl. 

“ Reckon there’s nothing particularly 1 wonderful ’ 
abaout running for Congress; almost anybody who 
wants tew can dew that. The wonder will occur if I 
get myself elected.” 

“Nonsense! You will be, of course you will. Why, 
think of what the newspapers have been saying, and 
the reputation you’ve made! With Congressman Clay¬ 
ton helping —” 



THE CREST OF THE WAVE 201 


“If he does help,” the candidate interrupted to 
amend. 

“ But he said that he would. We heard him, didn’t 
we, Virge, Camille? He said that he wasn’t going tew 
run again, and —” 

“ Hold your horses! A witness is supposed tew tell 
the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, my 
child, and I’m afraid that you’re letting the wish color 
your recollection. What Clay actually did say, as I 
recall it, was that he had abaout made up his mind 
tew quit political life, and that I might be the logical 
man tew succeed him in the job. We’ve got tew give 
the devil his due, you know — not meaning anything 
personal, of course. He may come through for me. I 
certainly hope so, for I’ll admit that my decision was 
based in part, at least, on what he told us up hyar, and 
what I’ve heard elsewhere tew the same effect, but — 
Well, it’s kind of funny. I wrote him that abaout a 
week ago, and he hasn’t even acknowledged my letter, 
yet.” 

“ If he should go back on what he said — and I don’t 
care what you say, it was as good as a promise — he’ll 
be the meanest man on earth,” Omie retorted, hotly. 

“ Oh, no, he won’t. I told you then that the guarded 
promises of a dyed-in-the-wool politician aren’t in¬ 
tended tew be taken too seriously. Naturally I’d be 
considerably disappointed if he should decide tew exer¬ 
cise the privilege of a wise man, and change his mind, 
but —” 

Preacher Billy interrupted this time. 

“ What air the other and real reasons fer your de¬ 
cidin’ tew run, Abe? I’m plumb sartain thet hit hain’t 
fer the worldly glory uv the office, nor the money 
thet’s in hit, whatever.” 



CHAPTER V 


THE DECISION 

“ Thanks, Billy; I hope you’re right. Well, there is 
another reason. The election next fall is going tew be 
bitterly contested, and —” 

“ Where dew you get that stuff? ” interjected Virgil, 
in army fashion. “ Why, the Republican Party always 
wins, hands daown, in this District. It’s traditional 
since we maountain people stuck by the Union in the 
Civil War. I know what the newspapers are saying, 
that this election is going tew be a Democratic land¬ 
slide and sweep a bunch of Republicans aout of Con¬ 
gress, but I’ll bet my shirt that it won’t start up hyar.” 

“You’re looking on the surface; I’ve been looking 
underneath it. Of course, whoever gets the nomina¬ 
tion is reasonably certain tew win over the Democratic 
nominee; but, as sure as shooting, there’s going tew be 
another party in the field, this election, and it’ll put up 
a devil of a fight.” 

“ You don’t really mean tew say — ? ” 

“ If you’re thinking ‘ Socialists ’ I most certainly dew! 
I still have a friend or two, even among the striking 
coal miners and they’ve furnished me with the informa¬ 
tion that Dago Lemos has sworn tew carry aour fight 
intew the political arena, and get even with me, and the 
Interests for which he assumes I was working, for the 
licking we handed him two weeks ago. He’s red hot, 
and going at it with a zeal worthy of a better cause. 
Their platform will be one calculated tew appeal tew 
the ignorant — daown with the Interests, a square 
deal for the miner and the maountaineer, and licker for 
202 


THE DECISION 


203 


every one! If he succeeds in getting all the eligible 
miners registered, and can drive or coax all of them, 
and a fair pereentage of aour maountain people, tew 
the polls tew vote the ticket of the ‘ People’s Party,’ 
he’ll play the very mischief in this District, which is so 
largely composed of maountains and mines. He has a 
big following in both camps, already, being half and 
half himself, and I can tell you that he’s a mighty 
efficient organizer and effective speaker. It is just what 
I prophesied, a year ago, only the strike and that little 
affair at the Iron Maountain Mine have brought things 
tew a head even sooner than I expected. 

“ Naturally Tom’s planning tew concentrate on the 
District and Caounty offices, which they stand a chance 
of winning, and he is himself tew head the slate as 
candidate for Congress.” 

“Well, of all the nerve! ” exclaimed Virgil, scof- 
fingly. 

“ Oh, Lemos has plenty of that — you have tew 
have it tew mix in politics. But this is no laughing 
matter. What I’m particularly afraid of is that most 
of the regular voters will think that it is a joke, and 
fail tew go tew the polls and prove that their assump¬ 
tion was correct. The people have got tew be waked 
up, araoused tew the danger, and I’m a candidate be¬ 
cause I believe that I realize the menace better than 
the average politician, who lives daown in one of the 
taowns, is likely tew. And I’m after the Congressional 
nomination because it interests the whole District, and 
the whole District is endangered. It will give me a 
wider field tew fight in, and a chance tew tell my story 
tew bigger audiences. The office of State’s Attorney is 
only a Caounty one, and, although it’s pretty important 
at the present time, there are plenty of men as good as, 
or better than, I am tew fill it. I want tew see their 



204 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


entire slate wiped clean off, and I’m afraid that won’t 
happen unless some one who recognizes the danger, and 
can fight it at its source, gets busy and stirs up public 
opinion. It isn’t going tew be a fight between the Re¬ 
publican and Democratic Parties, or even the Republi¬ 
can, Democratic and People’s Parties, so much as it is 
one of principles. Law and Order are at stake in this 
hill country, and the party which stands for those, as I 
believe aours does, is going tew need the strongest 
candidates that it can put intew the field if it is tew 
win and win decisively, which is absolutely essential. 
The new movement must be swept clean aout of these 
maountains, for, if it ever gets a real foothold up hyar 
— good-night! Perhaps I’m wrong in picking myself 
as the man —” 

“ You air thet man, Abe Blount! A man sent by 
Gawd Hisself tew meet the danger thet threatens us. 
I believe hit.” 

The mountain preacher spoke solemnly. 

“ Maybe, Bill. I wouldn’t go quite that far, myself; 
but, if I get the nomination, I reckon that I’m going 
tew need His help, and yours as well.” 

“ You shall have hit. You air a-goin’ tew win. The 
Lord hain’t a-goin’ tew let the cause uv Righteousness 
be tromped upon by the forces uv Iniquity.” 

“The right cause always triumphs in the end; but 
sometime He seems tew allow it tew get a paowerful lot 
of preliminary lickings, Billy. If Clayton were tew 
run again he’d probably win the election tew Congress 
withaout much trouble, for he has a strong following. 
But I wouldn’t even bank too heavily on that, for 
plenty of voters are getting tired of Malley rule and 
machine politics, while others have got the habit of 
thinking as you dew, Virgil, that the Party can’t lose, 
and that it doesn’t make any difference whether they 



THE DECISION 


205 


vote or not. But the old steam roller isn’t going tew 
be able tew keep on squashing the opposition flat, in¬ 
definitely. The most carefully built-up machine disin¬ 
tegrates in time, and, although a new one is usually 
constructed aout of the parts of the old, pretty quickly, 
the damage may have been done. That doesn’t mean 
that I like machine rule. I’d rather see it busted — but 
not by the craowd that threatens tew dew it, up hyar. 
I’m even willing tew work with it, instead of against 
it, in a case like this, if the Party — the sit-tighters 
and the independent and progressive members of it — 
will accept me as a candidate. The other day Clay 
advised me tew ‘ capitalize my present popularity.’ It 
may not amaount tew much, in my case, but there are 
times when it’s legitimate tew dew that, and I reckon 
that this is one of ’em, not in my own interests so much 
as in the interests of a Cause. At least that’s haow I 
look at it. This is going tew be a fight for Law and 
Order, and we’re going tew need all the help we can 
get. A good candidate from the machine’s standpoint 
might not be able to catch the Independent votes, as 
I think there’s a good chance that I might. I sent a 
letter off tew the leading newspapers yesterday, an- 
naouncing my candidacy on these graounds, stated 
briefly; for the first blow, if it carries any punch at all, 
caounts heavily in politics as well as prize-fighting. 
Maybe the glad news will be taken as a joke, but per¬ 
haps it will cause an explosion. If it does I may be 
the one tew get buried under the debris.” 

“ Oh, no, Abe! Why, you couldn’t be — the news¬ 
papers and everybody will be for you. Think of the 
wonderful things that they’ve all been saying,” cried 
Omie, and her brother added, “ Sure. Everybody 
araound hyar knows what you stand for and what 
you’ve accomplished for the cause of Law and Order 



206 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


in these maountains. Billy had the right dope when 
he called you its special champion, and of course the 
thinking, law-abiding people who form the majority 
aren’t going tew repudiate what you’ve fought for and 
done, by throwing you daown, naow.” 

“ Well, that remains tew be seen — naturally I hope 
not. However, it strikes me that you put the case a 
bit strong, Virge. I’m not the only man in the world, 
or even in this District, who stands for Loyalty to Law, 
and if the ‘ thinking people ’ don’t choose tew think as 
we dew, that isn’t going tew prove that they’re wrong, 
necessarily. Just the same, I hope —” 

“Mail! ” 

The barefooted, half-grown son of the postmistress 
at Smiling Pass stopped his whistling long enough to 
shout the word, as he swung in from th,e creek road, 
through the gate, and began to climb the path to the 
veranda steps. Arriving there, he tossed Virgil a good- 
sized bundle of letters and papers, and departed, still 
whistling. 

Virgil ignored the correspondence for the moment 
and handed Abe the folded copy of the State’s leading 
daily, saying, “ Hyar you are. We’ll let you be the 
first tew see haow the news looks in print.” 

Abe laughed, but his big hand was not entirely steady 
as he tore off the wrappers and opened the paper. 
Omie’s curiosity overcame her, and she leaned on his 
shoulder, her eyes eagerly seeking for momentous news. 
A big headline concerning the strike situation ran 
across the top of the front page, printed in heavily 
leaded type, but the left-hand column carried the story 
which they sought. It was headed, “ Cong. Clayton a 
Candidate. Seeks Re-Election on Record.” The third 
lead, in much smaller letters, read, “ State’s Atty. 
Blount Also Announces Candidacy.” 



THE DECISION 207 


Abe read it aloud, mechanically, and stopped. There 
was silence for an instant on the porch; then the girl 
burst into angry tears, and choked out, “ Oh, the liar , 
I hate him. And I hate her, too,” she added with ap¬ 
parent irrelevance. 

“ Steady, Omie,” said the man, quietly. “ Remember 
‘ As fer Trouble you won’t mind hit half so much if 
you jest smile.’ Of course I’m plumb disappointed, 
although I’ve got tew admit that I was beginning tew 
have sort of a premonition of this. Well, it’s all part 
of the game, I reckon, and maybe I took too much for 
granted, and was also what I swore that I wasn’t 
going tew be, swelled-headed over my sudden rise tew 
something like fame. Let’s see what aour leading daily 
has tew say about it, and just where I get off. 

“ ‘ Cumberland City, June 6. Hon. H. Clay Clayton, 
distinguished Member of Congress from the 12 th Dis¬ 
trict, to-day announced his decision tew again be a 
candidate for reelection, as was generally expected. 
His nomination and election is regarded as a matter of 
course, for that district has never been represented in 
Washington by a stronger, saner and more popular 
man, one who has for three terms always fought val¬ 
iantly for constructive and progressive legislation and 
the rights of his constituents. Simultaneous with this 
annaouncement came one to the effect State’s Attorney 
Abraham Blount had also entered the field, seeking the 
nomination, his candidacy being based in part on the 
erroneous assumption that Clayton was not intending 
to run this year. Attorney Blount has earned the re¬ 
spect and appreciation of the entire State of Cumber¬ 
land by reason of his sensational achievements as chief 
law officer for his Caounty. These have been notable 
and commendatory in the extreme, and indicate that 
such a man could ill be spared in the work which still 



208 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


remains tew be done in that region during these trou¬ 
blesome times, and it is therefore certainly to be hoped 
that, now that Cong. Clayton has decided to run, Mr. 
Blount will withdraw and instead become a candidate 
for reelection to the position which he is naow filling 
in such a splendid manner.’ 

“ Soft soap,” laughed Abe, tossing the paper aside, 
and clasping his huge hands about one knee. “ I’d 
sure like to have the inside dope on that story. One 
thing’s certain, dead certain. Clayton’s sudden de¬ 
cision was the result of my annaouncement, and I’m 
willing tew bet a year’s salary that he was either per¬ 
suaded, or forced, intew running again, against his real 
desires. The question is, by whom and why? And 
this editor got his orders as tew the attitude of his 
paper, in a hurry, and I suppose that the same thing 
will hold true all along the line. But I’d sure like tew 
know the 1 why ’ of it.” 

“ I kin tell you, Abe Blount.” Preacher Billy stood 
up, tall, spare and scowling. He lifted one bony arm, 
covered with a soiled cotton, shirt, and shook his fore¬ 
finger impressively. “ The paowers uv Iniquity done 
hit! done hit bekaise they was afeered uv you. You’re 
a danger tew them, whether they be daown in those 
stinkin’ cesspools uv evil, the cities, or up hyar in the 
maountains. They dassent let you be elected tew a 
high office, fer fear that your reputation and paower 
will grow so great thet you’ll finally be able tew drive 
them aout, as the Lord druv the money-changers from 
the temple.” He swept his arm out with a command¬ 
ing gesture. “ Hit’s the big jobs thet they’re interested 
in. Thet’s why they wants tew have you content your¬ 
self with a leetle one, and hit’s fer thet thet they’re 
tryin’ tew make the people think you should stay hyar, 
by praisin’ you tew the skies as State’s Attorney.” 



THE DECISION 


209 


“ Maybe so, Billy, I don’t know. But even that 
doesn’t explain why they regard me as a danger. I’ve 
never tried tew mix up in their concerns, or even tew 
oppose the machine. Then why should they regard 
me as a possible menace? No, I guess that, after all, 
it’s just a case of Clay’s having changed his mind when 
the prospect of losing a soft job became too imminent.” 

“ Perhaps hit’s so; but I think different. Hit’s the 
handwritin’ on the wall they sees. Hit’s corruption 
fearin’ the incorruptible. They knows you’re baound 
tew cross swords with them, sooner or later, fer you 
air the nateral enemy uv evil, wharever and in what¬ 
ever form hit exists. I hain’t imaginin’ withaout cause, 
whatever. Thar’s reason fer my sayin’ what I done, 
but I air disputin’ with myself if hit’s right fer me tew 
tell the reason; I hev knowledge, but hit cum tew me in 
confidence. Thar’s a sartin man in these hyar hills 
what’s been moonshiner, bootlegger and aoutlaw; but, 
praise the Lord, he’s seen the light and got hisself bap¬ 
tized with water and the Holy Spirit. He repented him 
uv his evil life, on his marrer bones, and some uv the 
things he told me you’d ought tew know, Abe; but I 
kain’t jest make my mind clear abaout tellin’ you what 
was told me, private.” 

“ Don’t dew it if you have any daoubts, Billy. I 
wouldn’t have you break a confidence,” said Abe, 
quietly. 

But Virgil was not satisfied to let it go at that. 

“ Why shouldn’t he tell, if it concerns you? ” he de¬ 
manded. “ He needn’t tell the man’s name, and Billy 
is no Catholic priest —” 

“ I hain’t a Papist, thet air a fact, and the man didn’t 
ask me not tew tell. I will tell hit! Hit war this a-way. 
The man war one uv the chief moonshiners in this sec¬ 
tion, and one night he war daown tew a sartain taown, 



210 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


aoutside the maountains, with a lot uv corn licker. 
Thar he met up with the man who bought the stuff 
from him and several others who war higher up in the 
councils of the ungodly craowd what secretly traffics in 
pizen, contrary to law. They fell tew drinking their- 
selves, and in time tew talkin’ free, and boasting abaout 
the wonderful system what was makin’ them all rich 
and keepin’ them safe from prosecution, for thar air 
such a gang as you suspicioned, daown in the cities and 
taowns, what’s leadin’ aour maountin’ men intew temp¬ 
tation and encouragin’ ’em tew break the law, for gain, 
Abe.” 

“ Of course. I’ve known that, definitely, for a long 
time, Billy. And I came pretty nigh tew placing my 
finger on some of the ringleaders, a couple of months 
ago.” 

“ But not quite. Why? Bekaise they keep their- 
selves too carefully hid aout uv sight. Hit’s jest as 
Christ said, ‘ For every one thet deweth evil hateth the 
light, neither cometh tew the light lest his deeds be 
reproved.’ But that night strong drink loosened the 
tongues uv the servants, and the secrets uv thar masters 
war disclosed. The man I’m a-tellin’ you abaout, heerd 
and remembered, for he warn’t as drunk as the others 
— he’d been pretty nigh weaned on moonshine! 

“ Well, after prohibition come thar sprung up many 
bootleggers in this hyar state, and they soon fell a-fight- 
ing among tharselves, like thieves. They cut prices; 
feuds and murder followed.” 

“ Dog eat dog,” interpolated the State’s Attorney. 

“ Thet’s hit! But hit warn’t fer long. Sartain men 
with brains, paower and money j’ined in and stopped 
all thet. They organized the business uv selling pizon- 
ous licker like they had the business uv gittin’ an’ 
givin’ political jobs and special laws favorin’ the in- 



THE DECISION 


211 


terests uv a few. They always acted through others 
— thar’s air the wisdom uv the sarpent — but thar 
names air known tew a few. Thar’s big men, and mid¬ 
dle men and leetle men in hit, each takin’ tribute from 
the ones below. Thar’s them as does the dirty work; 
thar’s them thet supply the money tew buy the for¬ 
bidden thing, not only from aour moonshiners but from 
Canady and furrin islands across the sea, and bring 
hit hyar by land, by water and through the air; thar’s 
them thet furnish protection through political influ¬ 
ence and even through the courts tharselves — fer the 
temples uv Justice hev become polluted by a few 
judges who owe thar high positions tew the men thet 
I’m a-speakin’ uv. And thar’s them thet sit in the 
seats uv the law-givers, thet voted fer the law and pub¬ 
licly swear tew uphold it, who wave the flag uv thar 
country as defenders uv hits Constitution, while they 
tharselves air drinkin’ in straight defiance uv the law 
which they made, and daily takin’ tribute from others 
thet break hit, mebbe not in coin, but in votes.” 

“ I know all that, Billy. It’s a shame and a disgrace. 
It’s worse; it has created a situation of the gravest 
danger to the nation. Millions are absolutely honest in 
wanting prohibition, and in living up tew the law, but 
there are thousands of the worst sort of hypocrites, 
men who want the law continued for their own financial 
benefit, who are vociferously in favor of it because it 
enables them to fatten their bank accaounts. But are 
you dead certain that at least some of the men you’ve 
been telling us abaout are also mixed up with the politi¬ 
cal machine and opposing me because of my stand on 
the enforcement of the law? ” 

“ I’m as sartain uv hit as I air thet thar’s a Gawd 
above! ” answered the preacher. “ I hain’t a-goin’ tew 
tell you all the names he told me, but the chief uv them 



212 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


all is the real political boss uv aour party, Malley; 
and one thet’s workin’ hand in hand with them — al¬ 
though he hain’t so bad as some and the bootleggers 
laff at him fer a weaklin’, a useful blind — air the Hon. 
H. Clay Clayton.” 

u Congressman Clayton! ” 

Three voices repeated the name in unison, with vary¬ 
ing intonations. 

“ Hit’s a fact! Maybe I kain’t prove hit, but I 
knows hit. Naow dew you see — ? ” 

Abe abruptly arose and walked to the railing, where 
he stood a moment, immovable and with hands clench¬ 
ing it tightly. At last he turned towards them and 
they saw that his face was drawn, almost haggard look¬ 
ing. 

“ I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and added, almost 
under his breath, “ especially for her.” 

The words, “ I’m not,” were on Omie’s lips; but she 
checked their utterance in time and immediately ex¬ 
perienced a feeling of shame at her thought. 

“ Are — are you going tew withdraw from the fight, 
Abe? ” asked Virgil, hesitatingly. 

The other’s hands clenched again and his counte¬ 
nance grew stern and dark, but when he answered it 
was in the same low, controlled voice. 

“ He’s been my friend, and honestly friendly, I be¬ 
lieve. But, no, I shan’t quit, naow. It’s going tew be 
a fight; a bitter one. And I’ll probably get licked; but 
I’ll make it, for what’s at stake.” 

The mountain preacher stood up and gripped his 
hand hard. 

“ But you won’t be beaten, Abe! ” cried Omie; her 
voice unsteady with excitement and strong emotion. 
“ You’ll win; I know you will! ” 



PART THE THIRD 


THE CAMPAIGN — AND AFTERWARDS 












CHAPTER I 


COME, LET US REASON TOGETHER 

“ Well, that’s that,” remarked the State’s Attorney. 
“ The die is cast, and I’m in this scrap tew stick tew 
the end — maybe the bitter end.” 

“ No, no! ” cried Omie, again. 

“ I’m right glad,” the preacher said, simply. “ I war 
aimin’ tew fight agin them thar corrupt politicians, 
anyhaow; but hit’s more inspirin’ tew fight jer a per¬ 
son than jest agin one. Thet man Clayton mebbe 
hain’t the worst uv the lot — mebbe the others jest 
use him fer thar own unrighteous ends — but he air a 
hypocrite like untew the Scribes and Pharisees. He 
prays alaoud thet Prohibition may be continued, 
standin’ whar all men kin see him; but hit’s a cloak. 
Naow you air an honest man and —” 

“ Hold on a minute, Billy. Don’t be too hasty in 
setting me on a pedestal. I know haow strong you are 
on the drink question —” 

“ Reckon you dew, my boy! ” And who, indeed, did 
not in that shut-in section of hill country? The cause 
of Prohibition did not possess a more earnest or un¬ 
tiring fighter than this rude preacher, who, in the days 
of his youth, had heard and obeyed the call to religious 
consecration during a period of violent physical and 
spiritual revulsion following a drunken debauch. 

“ Yes. But we must not forget that the issue in this 
primary campaign isn’t going tew be licker, but Law 
and Order. I can’t even attack Clay’s position on 
Prohibition unless I can get something a lot more defi¬ 
nite than what you’ve told me. I believe it, in the light 
215 


216 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


of other things which I have seen; but it isn’t compe¬ 
tent evidence, it’s merely hearsay, ‘ A says that B told 
him and C stated it as a fact.’ No, I shall have tew 
leave that strictly alone.” 

“And the people kain’t be let tew know what a 
hypocrite — ? ” 

“ I’m afraid not, unless I can get hold of something 
definite tew pin the charge tew. I’ll make the fight on 
my record, and the need of a candidate on which all 
the Party can unite tew meet the new danger; for I 
know that plenty,of voters are disgusted with machine 
rule and either won’t vote for its candidates or are 
ready tew revolt against them. I think that I can 
prove that Clay is one of Malley’s tools, and too color¬ 
less tew unite aour ranks and lead them successfully in 
the battle that’s coming in November — why, I don’t 
believe that the man ever had a positive and original 
thought in his life. He’s just a mirror.” 

“ But thar’s a great principle at stake, as well.” 

“ I’m not forgetting that, Billy. But the principle 
isn’t altogether, or even primarily, Prohibition. I’m 
going tew steer clear of it, if I can, and stick tew the 
real issue. But you have a right tew know just where 
I dew stand on it, before you tie up tew me. You said 
I was honest, and I want tew remain so.” 

“ Sho! Everybody knows whar you-all stand on 
thet thar law.” 

“ On the strict enforcement of it, yes. But I’m a 
candidate for election tew Congress, and some day 
Congress may be called upon tew vote on the question 
of its repeal, or at least on a change in the interpreting 
act which bears Mr. Volstead’s name. The question is 
almost sure tew be asked ‘ where dew you stand on 
that proposition? ’—although I personally think that 
it’s a dead issue — for the present, at least.” 



COME, LET US REASON TOGETHER 217 


“ Why, Abe, you hain’t a-goin’ tew tell me that you 
hain’t in favor uv the law? ” 

There was deep distress, bordering on consternation, 
in Billy’s voice. 

“ That’s the point. I’m not sure, myself, yet. As a 
matter of fact I’m pretty certain that the Eighteenth 
Amendment is going tew stay a part of the Constitu¬ 
tion— that three-quarters of the States would never 
ratify a vote tew repeal it. Just the same, I don’t think 
that it was a wise law, regarded in its broadest aspects. 
As I told Dago Lemos, a while back, I’m a lawyer and 
have the distressing habit of looking at all sides of a 
case. As I see this one, the issue isn’t so much a ques¬ 
tion of the theoretical right and wrong of the drink 
problem as it is whether we’ve been pursuing the wrong 
road tew achieve the right result, and I think that we 
have.” 

Billy bristled. 

“ Ef you’re a-goin’ tew argue thet thar’s more than 
one side tew the licker question, I air hyar tew show 
you thet a preacher kin hold up his side agin a politi¬ 
cian — even as peert a one as you, Abe Blount.” 

“ Pshaw, you’re a politician yourself, Billy. And 
there are two sides tew every question intew which the 
factors of human liberties and human nature enter. 
Besides, this particular one has its roots planted deep 
in the history of mankind, and —” 

“The ax has been laid tew the root of the tree,” 
broke in the preacher, fervently, if sententiously, and 
Abe answered, “ Well, we may have cut the tree daown, 
but there seems tew be life enough left in the roots 
tew be sending up a bundle of almighty vigorous suck¬ 
ers, which are kept well watered, so tew speak, by men 
like aour friend Clayton. And I’d advise you not tew 
start quoting Scripture, for I can cap every one of 



218 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


your ‘ Strong drink is raging ’ passages with a dozen 
contra. Want me tew try? I could make aout a pretty 
strong case in favor of wine, at least, from the Holy 
Script and the history of the Christian religion; but 
Pm not going tew dew it, for this is a matter in which 
religion isn’t involved, except in so far as it is against 
the abuse of anything — things which in themselves 
may actually be beneficial if properly used, for exam¬ 
ple. And I don’t want any of you tew get the idea that 
I’m not strong for temperance. I’m absolutely in favor 
of it, Billy, but temperance and the Volstead Act seem 
tew be horses of two mighty different colors. I’m 
sworn tew uphold the law —” 

“ And thar hain’t no question but what you air up- 
holdin’ hit, Abe. But I don’t love fer tew hear you 
even talk agin hit.” 

“ I’m not talking against it so much as abaout it; 
being a lawyer, I’m as likely tew argue on one side as 
the other until I’m dead sure in my own mind which the 
weight of the evidence is on. Everybody’s talking pro¬ 
hibition, pro or con, naow-a-days, and we might as well 
have it aout. 4 Come, let us reason tewgether,’ as Mr. 
Isaiah said, and if there are any reporters present I’ll 
ask them tew retire at this time,” said Abe, by way of 
apostrophe, his deep eyes twinkling for the first time in 
many minutes. “ I’m not ready tew be quoted as tew 
my attitude on the subject — yet. Besides, we may get 
intew it and discover that it’s somewhat difficult tew 
find aour way araound, or aout again; in which case 
we’ll be like the Country itself, and appear rather ri¬ 
diculous. Did I ever tell you-all abaout the time I 
heard a furriner ask a little girl over on Rattlesnake 
where her paw was? No? 4 He’s up on top uv thet 
thar hill,’ she replied, withaout going intew particulars 
as tew what he was dewing there — reckon you can 



COME, LET US REASON TOGETHER 219 


guess. ‘ Can I get up there and back again before 
dark? ’ was the next question, and her answer was, 
‘ Wall, I reckon you-all kin git up thar, a-fore dark, but 
I don’t guess thet you’re a -cornin' back.’ ” 

Even the preacher laughed a little, as he responded, 
“ Well, ef we kain’t find a clar trail big enough fer the 
two uv us tew walk abreast on, I’d shor love tew go 
over the graound with you and see ef I kain’t convince 
you thet the way air clar. As I sees hit, hit’s straight 
and narrer, like the one thet leads tew salvation. Don’t 
you believe thet thar should be some law agin drunken¬ 
ness, thet awful curse? ” 

“ I sure dew. The question, though, seems tew me 
tew be ‘ What’s the best kind, taken all in all,— moral 
law, or one printed in the statute books — prohibition, 
or zVzhibition? ’ ” He broke off suddenly, turned towards 
Omie and said, “ I wonder whether that famous six 
thousand volume library of yours happens tew contain 
a copy of a novel called, ‘ The Honorable Peter Ster¬ 
ling ’ ? ” 

“ Oh, dew you want it, if I can find one? I’ll run 
and see; but you’ve got tew promise not tew talk any 
more ’til I get back. I don’t want tew miss anything,” 
admonished the girl, who had been a deeply interested 
listener, torn between loyalty to the teachings of her 
“ Smiles ” and her trust in Abe, who suddenly seemed to 
be opposed to them. 

Camille took the occasion to depart and assist her 
mother-in-law in the kitchen, for the discussion was 
just a little beyond her, and Omie flew down the steps 
and towards the little library building. 

By way of explanation of his queer request, Abe 
said to the others, “If you’re interested in American 
politics it would be a good idea for you tew get a his¬ 
torical backgraound against which tew set present day 



220 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


conditions, and you can’t dew it better than by reading 
some novels like the one I’ve just asked Omie tew see 
if she can find. And there’s the story of Uncle Jethro 
Bass in a book called 1 Coniston,’ written by a man up 
North named Winston Churchill, and some others of 
his, the titles of which I can give you. They’re not 
only darned good yarns; but I reckon that they picture 
certain epochs in America’s political history pretty ac¬ 
curately. You can get a fair idea of the subject with- 
aout having tew wade through a lot of dry-as-dust text 
books — that’s one of the best things abaout the really 
worthwhile novels; the authors of them dew all the 
‘ wading ’ for you, and then give you some valuable 
information along with entertainment; they make the 
men and issues of other days and other places alive 
and grippingly interesting. I like ’em, although per¬ 
sonally I think that the most interesting and helpful 
book is always the real biography of some great —” 

“ The most interestin’ and helpful book, son, is the 
Holy Bible,” interpolated the preacher solemnly and 
ready to contend his point. 

“ Pretty much biographical, ain’t it, Billy? ” re¬ 
marked Abe, and the other subsided. “ I want 1 The 
Honorable Peter ’ because, if my recollection is correct, 
I can spot a place in it where the writer discusses the 
problem which we’re talking abaout, naow, and says 
some things which struck me, when I read it a year 
or so ago, as containing some mighty good sense. It 
was written all of thirty years ago, but it applies to¬ 
day — wait until I read it and see if you don’t agree. 
Besides, it sort of blazes the trail which I think I’m 
likely tew follow.” 

There was another moment of desultory talk, during 
which Abe lit his corncob pipe and Preacher Billy 
slipped a morsel of mountain twist under his tongue. 



COME, LET US REASON TOGETHER 221 


Tben Omie appeared on the run and rejoined them, 
with her breath coming fast and her cheeks richly 
toned with the rosy glow of youth, heightened by exer¬ 
cise. In her hand she carried the book for which Abe 
had asked. 

“ Gosh, you back already? ” demanded the man. 
“ That speaks equally well of your system of cata¬ 
loguing and the speed in those pretty legs of yours — 
there, I reckon I shouldn’t have said that, but I can’t 
help being honest, you know.” 

He took the volume and the girl perched herself, 
smiling, on the veranda railing, for the moment all 
child again and without a suggestion of embarrassment. 

Abe turned towards the back of the book and, after 
a search of brief duration, announced, “ Hyar it is. 
Naow you-all listen tew this. Peter Sterling has be¬ 
come the political boss of New York City, and he’s 
discussing the drink problem with some of his high¬ 
brow society acquaintances; he never uses liquor him¬ 
self, but he’s defending his friendship with saloon¬ 
keepers and drunkards. Says he: 

“ £ I wish tew see the day come when such gross forms of 
physical enjoyment as tippling shall cease entirely [I reckon 
that we’re both with him in that, Billy] but till that day 
comes and humanity has taught itself and raised itself, I 
want tew see fair play.’ 

“And so dew I,” interpolated the reader, glancing 
up. 

“ ‘ There is as much champagne drunkenness as whiskey 
drunkenness, in proportion. But the man who drinks cham¬ 
pagne is sent home in a cab and put tew bed, while the man 
who can’t afford that kind of drink, and is made mad by 
poisoned and doctored whiskey, doctored and poisoned be¬ 
cause of aour heavy tax on it, is arrested.’ 



222 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Just change the wording a bit, and see haow that 
applies, to-day. Make ‘ champagne ’ read 4 high-priced 
booze — real stuff — that’s smuggled intew the United 
States or taken aout of bonded warehaouses on illicit 
or forged permits/ and change £ doctored and poisoned 
whiskey 5 tew ‘ bootlegged hootch, full of fusel oil or 
made aout of wood alcohol 5 and then hear this! 

“‘ That’s the shameful thing abaout aour so-called tem¬ 
perance legislation [or so called Prohibition law]. It is 
based on an unfair interference with personal liberty, and 
always discriminates in favor of the man with money.’ ” 

“ But it shouldn’t,” Billy protested. 

“ Of course it shouldn’t; but it does. We’re talking 
abaout the law as it is, and that includes the way it is 
working out actually. At least, I am. There’s a prac¬ 
tical question as well as a theory involved, and we can’t 
dodge it. But I’ll come back tew that. Peter goes on 
tew say, 1 If the rich man has his club, let the poor man 
have his saloon.’ Of course he isn’t favoring either, 
but annaouncing a principle which is absolutely saound. 
And we mustn’t lose sight of the fact that the saloons 
were going aout of existence, mighty fast, and that 
drinking among the rich was also growing less before 
the Eighteenth Amendment made it fashionable again. 
But hyar’s what I especially wanted tew read tew you, 
and where I’m with the writer withaout qualification: 

“ One of the women says,‘ But haow much better, though, 
tew stop the sale of wine everywhere,’ and Peter answers, 
‘That is neither possible nor right. You can’t strengthen 
humanity by tying its hands. It must be left free tew 
become strong. I have thought much abaout the problem, 
and I see only one fair and practical means of bettering 
aour condition. But, boss as the papers say I am, I’m 



COME, LET US REASON TOGETHER 223 


not strong enough tew force it.’ ‘ What is that, Peter? ’ 
asked Dorothy. ‘ So long as a man drinks in such a way 
as not tew interfere with another person’s liberty, we have 
no right tew check him. But the moment he does, the pub¬ 
lic has a right tew protect itself, and his family, by re¬ 
straining him as it does thieves, murderers, or wife-beaters. 
My idea—’ 

“ Well, he goes on tew propose a system of revocable 
licenses tew be granted tew men who want tew drink. 
It’s mighty interesting, but it would be starting us off 
on another track. The thought I was after is the one 
abaout not being able tew strengthen humanity by ty¬ 
ing its hands.” 

“ That is, it’s another problem where education of¬ 
fers the only final and lasting solution,” suggested Vir- 

gil- 

“ That’s just my point, Virge. It is the only com¬ 
plete solution. Of course it would take — or have 
taken — time. Changing over human nature is a 
mighty slow job, but the mills of the gods always grind 
slow, and —” 

“ Naow I’m a-goin’ tew convict you aout of your 
own maouth, Abe,” cried Billy, eagerly. “ Virgil told 
me thet when you war up hyar, a year ago, and a-tellin’ 
’em abaout the danger from the anarchists among the 
coal miners, you said thet the law should be invoked 
tew keep us maountaineers aout uv mischief until the 
time come when we could all be educated tew under¬ 
stand haow evil war the thing they’re a-preachin’. 
Hain’t thet what the prohibition law aims tew dew? ” 

“ Probably. But I was speaking then of one of the 
fundamental laws, on which the safety of the govern¬ 
ment and even civilization rests, while this is an artifi¬ 
cial one, which thousands — perhaps millions — of 
people honestly regard as contrary tew the inalienable 




224 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It 
was passed by the votes of equally honest, and perhaps 
higher-minded millions; but most of them didn’t fore¬ 
see the practical difficulties which might follow in forc¬ 
ing it daown the throats of the unwilling; it was an 
idealistic measure, carried through on a great wave of 
national idealism when we were all spiritually exalted 
by the war and forgetful that the normal man in nor¬ 
mal times is a pretty weak and perverse animal — but 
jealous of his liberty. 

“ A law isn’t in itself necessarily a sacred thing; but 
it must either be enforced or changed; disregard of any 
law is darned bad business. But, although my business 
is enforcing laws — and I hope that it’s going tew be 
framing ’em — I believe that there are altogether too 
many on the books, naow. A few fundamental ones, 
fully lived up tew, or fully enforced, if necessary, 
would be a whole lot better than twice or ten times as 
many only half observed.” 

“ Sure, but —” 

“ Hold on a jiffy, Billy, and let me get this aout of 
my system. The United States grew great by sticking 
tew the Ten Commandments and the Constitution of 
Washington and Madison — a document which fur¬ 
nished a pretty nearly perfect faoundation on which 
tew build a republican form of government. They 
didn’t foresee every contingency which was tew arise, 
of course, and the earlier amendments tew it were nec¬ 
essary. But these were all fundamental, too, and 
strengthened it, whereas, if we keep on adding other 
amendments, which won’t, or don’t, work, we’re not 
only going tew make the whole structure top-heavy, but 
fill it with weak spots. I once knew a chemistry teacher 
who asked his class what they could put in a container 
tew make it lighter, expecting the answer tew be ‘ any 



COME, LET US REASON TOGETHER 225 


lighter-than-air gas . 5 But they shaouted, all together, 
‘ Holes! 5 The Constitution is an entity. Put a hole in 
any part of it and it is made lighter and weakened. 
You can’t hope properly tew enforce any law that a 
considerable proportion of the people are dissatisfied 
with — Lincoln recognized that fact when he said some¬ 
thing tew this effect, ‘ Public sentiment is everything in 
any community. With it, nothing can fail; withaout it, 
nothing can succeed. Consequently, one who molds 
public sentiment 5 — educates the people —‘ goes deeper 
than he who enacts laws. He makes the laws pos¬ 
sible or impossible to be executed . 5 

“ Those may not be the exact words, but it’s the 
idea. And failure tew enforce any law weakens the 
whole fabric of the law. We’re talking abaout the 
Eighteenth Amendment; but what is happening, naow, 
in relation tew it, has happened for years with the Fif¬ 
teenth, and shows haow a law is subservient tew public 
sentiment. Remember what that one provides, Omie? ” 
The girl shook her head and Virgil spoke up, “ Let’s 
see. Isn’t that the one which prescribes that the right 
tew vote shan’t be denied any one on accaount of race, 
color or previous condition of servitude? ” 

“ Go tew the head of the class! Of course it was 
aimed particularly against parts of the South with a 
large negro population, which had been denied the suf¬ 
frage after the Civil War. Did it, does it work? Let 
me tell you a true story abaout just haow it does work 
in at least one State. The white people pretend tew 
agree tew the proviso, and allaow any one tew vote 
who can satisfy the Registrar that he can read and 
understand a portion of the Constitution. That 
saounds fair enough, but— Well, up comes Mr. 
Whiteman and wants tew register. Official states the 
regulation and the applicant says, ‘ I reckon that lets 



226 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


me aout, brother. My paw joined the Confederate 
army when I war a leetle shaver, and I didn’t get tew go 
tew school much.’ ‘ Oh, I don’t know,’ answers the Reg¬ 
istrar. ‘ Let’s see if you can’t read this! ’ and he points 
tew the passage which runs, ‘ He ’— meaning the Presi¬ 
dent —‘ shall hold office during a term of four years.’ 
Mr. Whiteman painfully spells the words aout, and 
when the official asks him what it means, answers, 
‘ Why, I reckon it means abaout what it says.’ His 
name promptly goes on the list. Then up comes Mr. 
Blackman, who is told the same requirements. 1 That’s 
all right with me, boss, I taught grade school for three 
or four years,’ says he. The Registrar indicates this 
section, ‘ No bill of attainder or ex post facto law shall 
be passed.’ Applicant reads it and the official says, 
4 Naow, what does it mean? ’ Mr. Blackman scratches 
his woolly poll and replies, 1 Reckon it means that this 
hyar nigger ain’t a-gwine tew vote.’ ” 

Of course they all laughed and voiced their indigna¬ 
tion, as well. 

Then Abe continued, “ The story is kind of funny, 
although the fact isn’t. But it illustrates what hap¬ 
pens tew a law that the people don’t want. And there 
are plenty of other ways of getting araound it, too.” 

“ But they did want the Eighteenth Amendment,” 
persisted Billy. 

“ Or thought they did. Sometimes a child wants a 
knife tew play with, especially if it’s new and shiny; 
but, if it’s so sharp that it cuts his finger, he isn’t so 
keen for it afterwards. The law might have done all 
the good that was predicted for it and not cut so deeply 
intew the sensitive quick of the body politic if the Vol¬ 
stead Act hadn’t given it such an almighty sharp edge. 
Millions were used tew drinking beer and light wines, 
occasionally or regularly, and it struck them as utterly 



COME, LET US REASON TOGETHER 227 


unreasonable for the government tew deny them what 
they considered a harmless pleasure, and even an 
actual benefit — remember what Paul wrote Timothy, 
4 Use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake and thine 
often infirmities ’ ? 

“ Apparently a nation reacts a lot like an individual. 
If it’s been used tew alcoholic stimulants and they’re 
cut off, suddenly and completely, the system rebels and 
raises ructions. Personally, I believe that the one-half 
of one percent interpretation of what is intoxicating 
liquor is bad law and bad business. And I think that 
I’d vote tew modify that Act, if I ever got a chance. 
Oh, I know that a howl would go up everywhere tew 
the effect that it would be giving booze a legalized foot¬ 
hold again, but I don’t believe it. It wouldn’t, if the 
more liberal law were strictly enforced, and it would 
be much easier than it is tew enforce the present one, 
because a very considerable part of those who are bit¬ 
terly dissatisfied, naow, would be satisfied. And those 
who want gin and whiskey are apparently going tew 
get it, anyway. There’s another reason for a change, 
an economic one. Taxes on wines and beers would bring 
in a great many million dollars a year, and the Lord 
knows that the country needs them tew help pay its 
debts and provide for its wounded soldiers. That isn’t 
an argument in favor of taking tribute from evil-dew¬ 
ing, Billy, for I don’t think that beer and wine with a 
reasonably limited percent of alcohol are evil — you 
can’t reconcile the proposition that they are with either 
medical testimony or the Christian religion. 

“ But tew get back tew the Eighteenth Amendment 
itself. Up tew the time of its passage this country had 
been steadily progressing towards real temperance and 
a sane attitude on the drink question. Its condition 
was probably the healthiest in the history of mankind 



228 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


since it was discovered that fruit juices could be fer¬ 
mented intew a drink with a kick and ‘ make glad the 
heart of man.’ Drunkenness was being generally 
frowned upon; strong licker was going aout of style, 
socially, and saloons were being legislated aout of exist¬ 
ence locally, all over the country. But the rabid re¬ 
formers weren’t satisfied with that. The processes of 
education were too slow; they wanted tew see Rome 
built in a day. It was fine in theory, maybe, but it 
can’t be done. If the faoundations of a structure are 
too hastily built, the whole thing is likely tew crash 
daown. Tew change the simile, too great speed often 
causes a man tew stumble, and short cuts tew a goal, 
which may look easy at the start, are often later faound 
tew be filled with rocks, mudholes, brambles and other 
impedimenta. 

“ I’m interested in molding public sentiment through 
full understanding, even if that necessitates the taking 
of what might look like a step or two backwards. We 
all of us have tew go back a ways, occasionally, in 
order tew find a better path than the one we’ve started 
aout on. I know that there’s something mighty fine 
and inspiring abaout plowing ahead, through and over 
obstacles, but that may become a stubborn waste of 
time and |nergy, and even foolhardiness filled with dan¬ 
ger.” 


“ But a principle . . began Billy, and Abe broke 
in with, “ I wouldn’t compromise where a principle is 
at stake. But the principle in this case is the abolition 
of the drink evil and not the Volstead Act — that’s 
merely one way to the end and it’s proving tew be a 
pretty rough way, which would indicate that there’s at 
least a chance that it’s the wrong way. When the po¬ 
lice force of a country and perhaps the army and navy 
have tew be called aout tew enforce a law, it is evi- 



COME, LET US REASON TOGETHER 229 


dence that there is something radically wrong either 
with the law or the people whom it affects, and the 
chances are that both are, in part, at fault, as is usually 
the case when quarrels arise. And, as a matter of ex¬ 
pediency, if not a matter of justice, each should yield 
something. 

“ Well, naow you know where I stand, and I hope 
that I haven’t hurt your feelings, Billy, for I want you 
with me, body and soul, in this fight. We could go on 
discussing prohibition and making platitudes abaout it, 
until the caows come home — and go a-field again to¬ 
morrow morning — but what’s the use? ” 

“ Thar hain’t no use. I want tew think over what 
you’ve said before I make up my mind abaout hit. You 
may be right on the question uv wine; Christ used hit, 
Hisself, and give hit tew His Disciples. But I’ve been 
thinkin’ uv prohibition and moonshine , mostly. We- 
uns don’t hev much tew dew with beer and wine, up 
hyar in the maountings.” 

“ I’ll say we don’t, and my statement that I’d prob¬ 
ably vote for a modification of the Volstead Act, if I’m 
elected tew Congress and got a chance tew dew it, isn’t 
likely tew get me many votes in a District that’s prin¬ 
cipally interested in making and drinking 4 corn ’ whis¬ 
key, or making and selling it at a big profit as the re¬ 
sult of a law that’s so strict it encourages bootlegging. 
Especially when I’m running in a ‘ Dry ’ State, and 
against an office-holder who pleases the drys by aout- 
wardly shaouting for Prohibition on every possible oc¬ 
casion, and is known by the bootlegging, tippling fra¬ 
ternity tew be inwardly wet.” 

“ Which air a fact. Hit’ll hurt you bad, I reckon; 
hurt you with them thet’s been praisin’ you for en¬ 
forcin’ the law so strict as well as with them thet’s 
profitin’ by breakin’ the law, as hit is. But I know 



230 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


you’ll tell the truth and take your chances, fer you air 
honest, Abe Blount. I loves you fer hit, and you kin 
caount on me tew be with you.” 

“ Bully for you, Billy, I’m glad tew hear it.” 

Abe clasped the preacher’s hand warmly. 

“ And naow let’s forget both prohibition and politics 
for a while. I need a few haours’ rest and recreation 
pretty bad — and I may need a haouse and lot tew re¬ 
tire tew, come next November. Where are those plans, 
Omie? ” 



CHAPTER II 


THE POT BUBBLES 

During the next four hours Abe Blount gave a re¬ 
markable demonstration of his ability to concentrate 
on one thing at a time. His decision made and his 
platform roughly shaped and builded for the inspection 
of his intimate friends at Smiling Pass, he dismissed 
politics from his mind altogether, relaxed and drank 
deep with unalloyed enjoyment of friendship’s cup. 

While the women were washing the dinner dishes, he 
strolled with Virgil down to Judd Amos’ diminutive 
general store, where they found half a dozen moun¬ 
taineers already congregated for their evening get-to¬ 
gether. 

Perching himself on the high counter, he reached 
back for a home-made fiddle which lay on the shelf 
behind it, thrust it unconventionally against his side, 
and surprised them all by playing a lively jig, keeping 
time to his tune by slapping the sole of his broad boot 
on the tobacco-stained floor. When the applause had 
ended, one of the number joshed him on the extreme 
length of limb which had enabled him to do it, and he 
replied with a drawl, “ Know haow long a man’s legs 
should be, Lige? Well, hit’s secret, but I’ll let you-all 
in on hit, ef you’ll promise not tew tell. Jest long 
enough tew reach from his waist tew the floor.” 

This started him off on a string of humorous stories 
and when he finally took his departure he had six votes 
as good as in his pocket, without having spoken a word 
of a political nature. 

Then Omie proceeded to claim him, and, while the 
231 


232 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


rest of the household busied themselves with the final 
odds and ends of the common daily tasks, the girl and 
man sat on the veranda railing in the flooding moon¬ 
light and sang in unison the “ long and lonesome ” songs 
of their people, the mountaineers’ ballads. Omie was 
very happy, and her happiness added something to 
her sweet, full tones which caused them to strike deeper 
into Abe’s heart than had the finely cultivated voice of 
Marion Clayton. For her part, the girl decided that, 
although his notes lacked something in musical quality, 
they sounded true and manly, like himself. 

Their impromptu concert ended in a burst of mu¬ 
tual merriment as they finished the sung-and-spoken 
dialogue concerning the “ Good Old Man,” a long, 
drawn-out series of questions and answers during the 
course of which he informed her that he had been to 
town to buy her a dress pattern which cost two dollars 
— and didn’t care if it broke him; that now he craved 
nourishment, to wit, two bushels of fried eggs — and 
didn’t care if they killed him; and, when she asked 
where he wanted “ tew be buried at ” he announced a 
preference for the chimney corner. “‘ Hain’t you 
feered folks’ll laff at you, my good old man? Hain’t 
you feered folks’ll laff at you, my honey leetle dove? 
Hain’t you feered folks’ll laff at you, my good old man? 
You’re the best old man in the world!’ ” caroled Omie 
in conclusion, and Abe solemnly rejoined, “ ‘ Don keer 
ef they dew ’— and I don’t.” 

The song had a prophetic note in it, for, during the 
two months which were to follow, he had plenty of op¬ 
portunity not to care when folks laughed. The news¬ 
papers, with one insignificant exception, were merely 
mouthpieces for the machine, and refused to take seri¬ 
ously the candidacy, at least at the outset. When they 
mentioned the contest for the Congressional nomina- 



THE POT BUBBLES 


233 


tion in the 12 th District of Cumberland it was un¬ 
equivocally to urge the renomination and reelection of 
the Hon. H. Clay Clayton, and to give little or no space 
to his opponent. 

This was far more discouraging to Abe than bitter 
hostility would have been, publicity being the breath 
of the politician’s life in this age of the world. Abuse 
is far preferable to being ignored, for, if it is carried 
to an extreme, an American public reacts and often ex¬ 
presses its sympathy with the under dog in the form 
of votes for him. 

The little that did appear in print concerning his 
campaign was, by design, given a humorous twist. 
Scarcely a story failed to make reference to the State’s 
Attorney as “ Our David,” the self-appointed defender 
of Law and Order, the People’s champion; and in time, 
as his attitude on the subject of Prohibition became 
known, the opportunity to class him as an unpleasantly 
moist “ Dry,” was seldom passed up. 

Occasionally, too, cartoons appeared, Abe’s ungainly 
form and long features lending themselves ideally to 
the humorist in black and white. The candidate him¬ 
self got many a hearty laugh out of them, but they 
filled Omie with bitter rage, which eventually vented 
itself in hot tears, shed in the privacy of her bedroom. 

The single exception noted was the four page, weekly 
sheet — the only newspaper published in the County — 
printed at Smiling Pass, which was of course red hot 
for him; but this had a negligible circulation. 

Yet, despite these handicaps, and the fact that he 
continued to perform the manifold duties of his office, 
all day and every day, his campaign made progress. 
The first week in July ushered in a prolonged torrid 
spell; but the weather was not as hot as the fight be¬ 
came, in time. Before its ending it was to become 




234 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


known as the bitterest primary campaign ever waged 
within the borders of the State. 

Many men and many women, especially the latter, 
knew, or felt, that Abe was honest, and they had al¬ 
ready fallen under the spell of his picturesque personal¬ 
ity and reputation for sensational accomplishments. 
This fact drew audiences — not large in themselves, 
but comparatively so — wherever he was announced to 
speak, evenings, and wherever he spoke he made votes 
by his quiet, determined manner, his unoratorical, but 
strongly framed sentences, the obvious sincerity of his 
message. Besides, his auditors were human and they 
were attracted by the outstanding human qualities of 
the man and tickled by the droll, appropriate stories 
with which he salted and peppered the meat of his re¬ 
marks. 

Realizing that Culverton City and the larger towns 
would naturally go against him, anyway, he bent his 
energies at first to the hill country and foothill vil¬ 
lages, and, although the numbers which he could reach 
on any one occasion were necessarily small, they began 
to mount up in the aggregate, and reports of the effec¬ 
tiveness of his campaigning soon reached the ears of 
the gods in the machine, and caused a growing uneasi¬ 
ness among them. Straightway the political pot began 
first to simmer, then to bubble. 

Abe rejoiced when the first countering blow came, 
for evidence of sufficient concern on the part of his op¬ 
ponents to make them take active measures to defeat 
him was an indication that others felt that his own posi¬ 
tion had become stronger, possibly even a menace. 
Theretofore Congressman Clayton had chosen to ig¬ 
nore the fact that he had a contest on his hands, and 
contented himself with making the popular type of 
large-sounding patriotic speeches to men, flattering 



THE POT BUBBLES 


235 


women, kissing babies and shaking hands in the good 
old fashioned Southern way. But, with the second 
month of the campaign under way, and the first week 
in August drawing rapidly nearer with its primary 
election, he began to pay his respects to his opponent 
more and more frequently. To Abe’s amused chagrin 
they were respects, and he came to the conclusion that 
either Clayton was a more astute politician than he 
had given him credit for being, or, more likely, studi¬ 
ously playing a role written for him by Malley. 

The Congressman expressed the highest personal re¬ 
gard for his opponent, commended his ability, but re¬ 
gretted that one who had proved himself so splendid 
and efficient a State’s Attorney should not have been 
content to continue and carry on in the position where 
one of his character and efficiency was so greatly 
needed in those troublesome times — especially so, if 
there were any real rather than fancied basis for his 
dire prophecies concerning the future activities of the 
forces of unrest in the hill country. The step which 
he had taken was assuredly ill-advised! 

Abe grinned with somewhat bitter amusement as he 
read a report of his speech, recalling what Clayton 
had himself said at Smiling Pass, the previous spring. 
Clayton’s was a charitable, broad-minded — and vote¬ 
making — attitude and it struck just the right keynote 
for his campaign which, he announced, would be pur¬ 
sued by him on an uncompromisingly high plane from 
which he would not descend into personalities. He 
stood tquarely on his record in the office, reelection to 
which he sought. 

But, if Clayton’s campaign conduct was above re¬ 
proach and free from bitterness, as much could not be 
said for that of speakers in his behalf, who now began 
to appear in considerable numbers. They seized upon 




236 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


it as the basis for odious comparisons. According to 
these vehement gentlemen, who possessed the Southern 
brand of political oratory in full measure, their candi¬ 
date was a sterling statesman with a notable record in 
National affairs, who fully merited the customary rec¬ 
ognition and regard; whereas his opponent was a 
clever but uncouth mountaineer, the victim of an in¬ 
flated sense of his own importance, who was seeking to 
advance himself politically at the expense of one who 
had been his friend and to whom he owed his present 
position. Worse than that, he was, open-eyed, striving 
to create dissension and schism in the ranks of the 
Party at a time when a solid front against the Demo¬ 
crats was particularly needed. He was a traitor, a 
Benedict Arnold, no less! 

Reports of these various speeches received from the 
press far greater space than was usual where only one 
District was involved, which seemed to indicate that 
those who dictated the policy of the Republican papers 
felt that something more than one seat in Congress was 
at stake. The Democratic sheets naturally rejoiced, 
but, oddly enough, also favored Clayton for the nom¬ 
ination, a fact which encouraged Abe not a little, even 
though he vaguely felt that it was probably the result 
of a working agreement between the powers which 
ruled both Parties to unite in opposition to any one who 
might prove a menace to machine-governed politics. 

The mountain candidate seized upon the opening 
made by these first undisguised attacks to reply in kind, 
selecting for the occasion a rally which had been ar¬ 
ranged for him in one of the more important towns. 
There, in his most telling speech to date, he joined issue 
with his critics. He pointed out the fact that the favor 
shown for his opponent by the Democratic press was 
an indication that they regarded Congressman Clayton 



THE POT BUBBLES 


237 


as the one whom they stood a better chance of defeat¬ 
ing at the election, and then swung into a stinging at¬ 
tack on party bossism and its complaisant candidate, 
during the course of which he reiterated the reasons 
which had impelled him to enter the field, much as he 
had set them forth in answering Preacher Billy’s ques¬ 
tion. 

This was News, and the papers printed a fairly com¬ 
prehensive resume of his speech. Marion Clayton read 
it, and, under the sweep of anger at the attack on her 
father, sat down and wrote Abe a bitter, impetuous 
note, charging him with base ingratitude and declaring 
that her former warm friendship for him had turned 
into contempt and dislike. The letter hurt, for Abe 
had formed a sincere liking for the girl, who typified all 
the external charms and graces which he lacked, and 
had enjoyed his brief, intimate companionship with 
her more than he had thought possible. He sighed a 
little as he tore the note into tiny bits and slowly 
dropped them into the waste-basket. Then he de¬ 
liberately turned his back upon them and memories 
alike, and sought to concentrate on his work. For once 
he found it impossible. The thought of the friendships 
which he was sacrificing, and the enemies he was mak¬ 
ing, by his obedience to the call of duty, as he heard it, 
persisted in running counter to the consideration of the 
legal question on which he was engaged, and he finally 
closed his books with a gesture of unwonted irritation, 
clapped his broad-brimmed felt hat on the back of his 
head and strode out of the office. The noontide was 
oppressively hot and sultry and Abe’s desires turned 
naturally to the higher hills and then to Smiling Pass. 
He might have lost certain former friends, irretrieva¬ 
bly, but there were others to whom the contest was 
drawing him closer and closer with ever-strengthening 



238 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


bonds. He needed them, now; their friendship, con¬ 
solation and encouragement — although he disliked to 
admit even to himself that he required the latter two. 

Making his decision on the spur of the moment, he 
informed his assistant that he would not return until 
the following morning, procured and saddled his horse 
— a good mount was as much a necessity as a luxury 
in that region — and took the rough, twelve-mile trail 
into the heart of the hills. The exercise and solitude 
laid healing, strengthening hands upon his overworked 
brain, and, by the time that the Community Center was 
reached, he was restored to his normal condition of 
mind — quieted, and ready to face whatever else of 
evil the future might hold, with philosophical courage 
and optimism. 

Suddenly he cried “ Whoa! ” and reined in his horse 
abruptly. He had just turned the spur of the mountain, 
and directly before him, a few rods up the hillside on 
a knoll, stood a new, and nearly completed cottage- 
house, its matched boards of yellow pine, shingled roof 
and window panes shining in the afternoon sunlight. 
The hillside forest, in full foliage, supplied a green, 
tapestried background for it, a towering sycamore 
stood just to one side, with the waters of a laughing 
brooklet playing hide and seek about its far-flung roots. 
A sudden mist rose before the man’s eyes. Here was 
“ home,” his home, the visible product of his friends’ 
planning and labor — Omie’s, Virgil’s, Billy’s, and the 
boys at Smiling Pass. In the rush of his official duties 
and campaigning he had almost forgotten that it had 
been even planned, and now it was nearly done! Abe 
started to ride up to its open doorway and then changed 
his mind and continued on. He had an intuitive feeling 
that Omie would want to be the first to show it to him, 
and he would not deny her that privilege. 



THE POT BUBBLES 


239 


Abe’s arrival at the Center was the occasion for a 
noisy welcome, as the summer session was in full 
swing, and, in the meeting of warm friends among the 
staff and the students, and three new and eagerly en¬ 
thusiastic workers, fresh from colleges in the North, 
his mind found just the needed distraction. But he 
was not fully at ease and contented until there came an 
hour just before supper when he could be joined by his 
four closest friends for an intimate talk in the little 
office. As was inevitable, it almost immediately took 
on a political tinge, for not only did they want to hear 
how things were going, from him, but Virgil and 
Preacher Billy had much to tell of their own activities 
in the hills. It also shortly appeared that Omie had 
turned active campaigner, too, and she showed herself 
as well versed as Abe, himself, in what the newspapers 
had printed concerning the fight. Her youthful en¬ 
thusiasm for his cause, and bitter hostility toward 
Clayton and all his works, were alike so vehement that 
it secretly amused, while it pleased, him. She joined 
with her brother and the preacher in assuring him that 
they would “ deliver ” that particular part of the moun¬ 
tains for him, almost to a man — and woman, for that 
matter. 

The candidate next told them of the progress of the 
campaign in its broader aspect, as it appeared to him, 
and concluded by saying, “ One thing’s doggone sure 
— I may not have got ’em on the run, but I’ve made 
’em sit up and take notice. The machine has begun 
tew bring some of its heaviest guns intew action, and 
is using plenty of ammunition — which is inspiring, 
in a way. And it’s also started tew use poisoned gas, 
which is decidedly otherwise.” 

“ ‘ Poisoned gas ’ ? ” echoed Omie, in a puzzled 
voice. 



240 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ That’s what I call it. You know what a poison 
pen letter is. Well, this is its verbal counterpart. I’m 
getting reports from all quarters that they’ve started a 
whispering campaign that is plumb devilish. It makes 
me see red.” 

Billy bluntly demanded just what he meant, and Abe 
replied, “ Oh, nasty insinuations regarding my moral 
character and — and parentage.” 

Virgil shot a hasty glance at his sister, whose face 
burned an angry red and then turned white. 

“ Omie understands,” added Abe, quietly. 

“ Yes, I dew know the whole story, Virge, and I think 
for them tew bring it in is simply despicable” cried 
the girl, struggling to keep back her tears. “ Oh, can’t 
something be done tew stop it? ” 

“No. There’s nothing tew dew but ignore it. It 
hurts, just the same, hurts personally and politically.” 

“ And that hypocrite laoudly boasted that he 
wouldn’t think of descending tew personalities! ” 

“ He hasn’t, personally. I can’t pin the rumor on 
him, and politics isn’t like law, where a man can some¬ 
times be held responsible for the acts of his authorized 
agents. Indeed, he may have no knowledge of it, so I 
wouldn’t call him a hypocrite, Omie,” answered the 
man, mildly. 

“ But I will, for he is one, and we’ve got tew beat 
him — we’ve just got tew. He’s a hypocrite and a 
cheat.” She sprang excitedly to her feet and, running 
to the desk, took from a drawer a long newspaper clip¬ 
ping which she thrust into Abe’s hand, crying, “ Did 
you read this story of the wonderful speech he made 
on the Fourth of July? ” 

Abe glanced at it and nodded, with an, “ Uh-huh. 
I thought that it was mighty good, although he reached 
quite an altitude and plucked too many posies from 



THE POT BUBBLES 


241 


the heights of Parnassus. Honestly, I didn’t think 
Clay had it in him.” 

“ You’re right. Honestly , he didn’t. He stole those 
words from the immortal dead, Abe.” 

“ No! ” 

“ Yes, he did — from Stephen Douglas. I almost 
believe that God meant for me tew find it out, it hap¬ 
pened so queerly. The very day that I read this speech 
in the paper I was cataloguing some new books that 
had been sent in. One was ‘ Masterpieces of American 
Oratory,’ and just by chance I opened it abaout the 
middle and glanced over a page. It struck me as aw¬ 
fully familiar, and all at once I remembered where I 
had seen practically the same words before, so I ran 
and got the newspaper, and there was the very speech, 
almost word for word, quoted from Congressman Clay¬ 
ton, if you please.” 

Abe whistled softly; then he chuckled, and, laying 
his head back against the chair, laughed heartily. 

Omie stamped her foot. 

“ Haow can you laugh at it, Abe Blount, when that 
man is getting applause and praise for dewing some¬ 
thing utterly dishonest? 1 think he ought tew have 
his tongue torn aout.” 

The man laughed louder than ever at her flaming 
vehemence. 

“ My, but you’re a hard-hearted woman, Omie. I’d 
rather have you with me than 1 agin ’ me! Reckon 
you haven’t learned that the motto of the modern world 
is ‘ It’s all right so long’s you don’t get caught.’ Clay 
committed the crime of getting faound out by you, 
and —” 

“ And he’s going tew be faound aout by everybody, 
if I have anything tew say abaout it,” retorted the 
girl. 



242 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Abe became abruptly serious. 

“ Well, I don’t know. We mustn’t act too hastily 
in a matter, of this kind. If he actually did plagiarize 
— swipe that speech, deliberately — it was pretty pica¬ 
yune business, tew put it mildly; but I’m inclined tew 
think that we’d be chargeable with playing small potato 
politics aourselves if we should attack him on that 
graound. Besides, we don’t know all the circum¬ 
stances. A newspaper report seldom tells the whole 
story. Maybe he prefaced his remarks by saying, 4 As 
another great man once remarked,’ and the reporter 
left that aout.” Abe’s deep-set gray eyes were twin¬ 
kling again. 44 Or perhaps he kept two fingers held up 
on either side of his mouth, as quotation marks, while 
he was speaking.” 

44 Oh, you’re hopeless! ” flashed Omie, and hastily 
turned her back, biting her lip to check its trembling. 

She had cherished her great discovery as a personal 
contribution which she would make to aid the State’s 
Attorney in winning his fight, and now he not only re¬ 
fused to accept it, but seemed to treat it as a joke. The 
girl was deeply hurt, but she concealed the fact so well 
that Abe did not guess it and so lo,st the chance speed¬ 
ily to heal the wound with a word of appreciation. If 
he had not been so absorbed in his own thoughts, 
which were serious enough under his cloak of tempo¬ 
rary levity, he might have saved her an hour of bitter 
unhappiness, which was none the less tragic for being 
rather childlike. 

44 1 believe that Omie’s right,” broke in Virgil. 
44 You’d see the funny side of life even if you were 
dying, Abe Blount.” And Abe responded, 44 Well, I hope 
so. Thank heaven there is a funny side, when so much 
of it is deadly serious. It keeps mankind from going 
mad altogether, and we’re bad enough as it is. I’ve dis- 



THE POT BUBBLES 243 


covered that even a red-hot political campaign has its 
humorous incidents. Did you happen tew see this clip¬ 
ping? ” He took from his pocketbook a brief item 
which ran, “ Among the signatures on Attorney Blount’s 
nomination papers, filed yesterday, was that of ‘ Henry 
Clay Clayton.’ No, it was not that of the Congress¬ 
man. As the schoolboy stated in an essay, ‘ Some folks 
say that Homer’s works were not written by Homer 
but by another man of the same name.’ ” 

Virgil read it aloud, grinned and handed it back with 
an amused comment, but Omie did not join in the 
laughter. Her back still turned to them, she stood at 
the open window with her hand pressed close to the 
bosom of her thin muslin dress, too unhappy and filled 
with self-pity to see any humor in it. 

“ Let me tell you abaout an incident that happened 
daown tew Bear’s Maouth Creek a week ago,” said 
Abe, sliding farther down in his chair until he was half- 
seated, half-reclining on it, with his hands thrust deep 
into the pockets of his riding breeches. “ I went tew 
address a meeting held in the old school-haouse there, 
and Johnnathan’s Johnnathan introduced me — or tried 
tew. That’s a notorious moonshine section, you know 
— I had occasion tew visit it more than once, for a 
different purpose, when I was Sheriff — and our pre¬ 
siding officer had ‘ looked upon the corn when it was 
white ’ somewhat too often during the preliminaries. 
Well, he advanced, waveringly, to the edge of the plat¬ 
form, steadied himself by clinging tew the preacher’s 
table, waved his free hand gracefully on high and spoke 
something like this.” Abe’s voice changed to a half¬ 
maudlin tone and his face assumed a look of drunken 
vacuity. “ ‘ Friends an’ fellow-shizens. We air . . . 
hup . . . ashembled thish evenin’ . . . hup . . . tew 
welcome . . . dishtinguish’ fellow-shizen, aour nex’ 



244 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


. . . nex’ . . . whasha goin’ tew be, Abe? Tha’s ri’. 
Aour nex’ Congreshman in . . . hup . . . Congresh. 
He’s . . . he’s . . . he . . . Oh, h—1, you talk tew 
’em, Abe. They’re your constishuents.’ ” 

This time even Omie’s slender shoulders shook a lit¬ 
tle as the rest laughed. 

“ Then,” continued the story-teller, “ night before 
last, when I invaded my first real taown and spoke tew 
an audience of several hundred, there was a little deaf 
old lady in the very front row, and, when I went up 
on the platform, she turned tew her companion and 
said, in what was meant tew be a whisper but which 
was audible half over the hall, 1 My, he’s even homelier 
than his picture be. But thar, he looks real honest, 
I’ll say thet fer him.’ Dew you hear that, Omie? ” 

“ Yes.” 

The man was a little surprised by the curtness 
in her voice and asked, “ Why, Omie, what’s the 
matter? ” 

“ Nothing. Only . . . Well, I don’t believe that 
you care abaout winning half as much as I dew. You 
just keep on telling funny stories, while —” 

“ ‘ Life is real and life is earnest,’ eh? I reckon that 
my ludicrous bump is a bit overdeveloped, but this is 
an eighteen haour leave, for me, and I’m trying tew 
make myself forget the dust and din of the battle. It’s 
been pretty strenuous, you know and I’m plumb tired.” 

Instantly the girl was at his side, repentant and sym¬ 
pathetic, for all at once he appeared, and his voice 
sounded, very weary. With the lightest possible moth¬ 
ering touch she passed her hand over his bushy hair, 
and said in a soothing tone, “ We won’t talk another 
word of politics while you’re hyar,” and with her next 
breath added, “ But I dew so want you tew win. You’re 
going tew, aren’t you, Abe? ” 




THE POT BUBBLES 


245 


“ I sure hope so, child, but — I don’t know. I’m in 
a tough fight and with mighty little ammunition, it 
seems. Money talks, as I told you a while ago, and the 
machine is beginning tew spend it for Clayton, like a 
drunken sailor.” 

“ What abaout the law? ” broke in Virgil. “ I 
thought —” 

“ Oh, the Corrupt Practice Act in this State doesn’t 
apply tew expenditures by candidates for Congress, so 
they can go as far as they like. Not that that makes 
any particular difference, for there are a thousand 
reasonably safe ways of beating a law of that kind. 
I’ve almost no money that I can spend in getting the 
nomination, although some of my good friends have 
voluntarily sent in small campaign contributions, while 
they’re printing newspaper advertisements, hiring work¬ 
ers and halls, and I’ve been told that in a day or two 
Clayton’s going to send aout tew every voter in the 
District a pamphlet with his picture, record and eulo¬ 
gistic comments by the Press, the Politicians and the 
Pulpit. Oh, they’re not missing any bets, naow — 
and I’m not missing any sleep. I’m going tew keep on 
fighting until I’m dragged aout, and if I’m licked, I’m 
licked, and—” 

“ And you can rest up for the next time in your own 
little haouse,” cried Omie. “ Did you see it when you 
came up — it’s almost done? ” 

“ You bet I saw it, and was plumb tickled tew death 
with it.” 

“ Oh, you never went in! ” 

“ No. I thought maybe —” 

“ That I’d want tew show it tew you? Of course 
I’m just dying tew, and we’ll go there right after sup¬ 
per. Only you’re not going tew get licked. Somehaow I 
just know you’re going tew win.” 



CHAPTER III 


ADDITIONAL FUEL 

“ Where are you two going? ” called Virgil, as his 
sister and the State’s Attorney started down the 
veranda steps after supper. 

“ Oh, just daown tew look over Abe’s new haouse,” 
answered the former. 

“ Better step along right lively, then. There’s a 
thunder storm coming up, and it’s coming right fast, 
or I’m a bum weather prophet.” 

“ We’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” 
laughed the girl over her shoulder, all her natural, 
sunny self again. Then she challenged, “ I’ll race you, 
if you’ll give me a head start tew the gate, Long Legs.” 

“ Done! ” 

Omie hurried ahead, passed through the four-bar 
gate and deliberately closed and latched it after her 
before she called, “ I’m ready.” 

“ Cheater! But I’ll lick you, just the same. Go! ” 

The girl started away like a flurry of wind, with her 
thin skirt whipping about her legs and her hair bobbing 
wildly, but Abe’s down-hill charge was more like a 
tornado, each stride covering close to seven feet of 
ground. The closed gate served as almost no check at 
all. He took it in a stride, vaulting it cleanly with his 
left hand barely touching the topmost bar. Omie’s 
heart jumped, for she had not been able to resist the 
temptation to which Lot’s wife had fallen victim. A 
moment later and he went charging past her, crying, 
“ Come on. Hurry! Hurry! We haven’t got all day, 
and it’s beginning tew sprinkle already.” 

246 


ADDITIONAL FUEL 


247 


“ Oh, please wait for me/’ she begged, breathlessly, 
and he slowed down just enough so that she could catch 
up with him and seize the hand which he reached back 
to her. Then he pulled her along, almost off her feet, 
laughing and breathless, with her face rosy and hair 
in merry disorder; nor did he stop at the knoll’s sharp 
rise, but only when they stood at the open doorway of 
the new house and were drawing quick breaths, re¬ 
dolent with the odor of new pine boards and cedar 
shingles. 

“ Gracious,” gasped Omie, as soon as she could speak 
at all, “ I never — went so fast — before — in my life, 
I don’t guess.” 

“ We’re living in a mighty fast age, and have tew 
travel if we’re tew get anywhere,” he replied solemnly. 
“ Ever hear the story of the furriner aout on the wes¬ 
tern plains who’d been riding for haours withaout 
reaching his destination or even meeting a soul? ” 
Omie shook her head. “ Well, finally he met up with 
a caowboy and asked him haow far it was tew the 
Double Bar ranch. ‘ Oh, abaout five miles, straight 
ahead,” was the answer. He rode on for another haour 
and met another herder. Asked the same question 
and got identically the same answer. Rode on for half 
an haour more and the same thing happened. Then 
he leaned over and patted his horse’s neck, saying, 

‘ Well, thank God, we’re holding aour own, old timer.’ ” 

The girl laughed with the soft, gurgling note which 
so delighted him, and he gave the hand he was still un¬ 
consciously holding an appreciative squeeze, where¬ 
upon she suddenly flushed a still deeper red and rather 
hastily withdrew it from his clasp. 

“ Naow,” said she, “ we’re going tew make a tour 
of inspection, and I’ll explain just what each of the 
three rooms is going tew be; but you have got tew use 



248 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


your imagination and see all the make-believe furni¬ 
ture, curtains, pictures and books as I point them 
aout — oh, I wish it wasn’t so dark. Virgil was right 
about the storm, I’m afraid.” 

They turned and looked up the valley towards the 
Southwest, where a heavy, low-hanging canopy of 
storm clouds covered the blue almost to its zenith. Its 
fringe of “ mare’s-tails ” was almost over their heads 
and scattering down big drops of water as it was shaken 
by the rising wind. In the distance appeared a shim¬ 
mer of pale light, followed by an ominous growl of 
thunder. The tempest was coming, and with a rush 
typical of that mountain region. 

“ Reckon we’d better postpone aour personally con¬ 
ducted tour until to-morrow, and be getting back faster 
than we came,” remarked Abe with some disappoint¬ 
ment. 

“ No, no. My legs just won’t stand it, they’re all 
wobbly, naow,” the girl laughed. “ Besides, it’s only 
going tew be a summer tempest and will have passed 
over in no time. Look! It’s coming like lightning, 
literally. And hyar’s the rain! ” 

Come it did. First merely a staccato patter on the 
shingled roof; but this increased in a steady crescendo 
to a rattle like that of a snare drum, and a silvery 
sheet was let down in front of the doorway. The full 
force of the tempestuous wind smote them a moment 
later, arriving with a whoop and a howl. It set the 
branches of the near-by trees to creaking and rattling; 
it tore off full clusters of leaves and sent them whirling 
away; it blew the sheeted rain in at the doorway and 
drove the two scurrying into the almost darkened room 
for shelter. Through a paneless window opening they 
could see the black curtain of clouds rent again and 
again with rapier-like slashes of lightning, while the 



ADDITIONAL FUEL 


249 


heavens thundered, the crashes echoing from moun¬ 
tain-side to mountain-side as though an artillery duel 
were in progress between armies entrenched in their re¬ 
spective summits. The noise of thunder, wind and rain 
joined in a tumult of sound above which their voices 
were hardly audible even when they shouted, but Abe 
could see in the lightning’s glare that the girl was 
frightened — white and large-eyed. 

“ Nothing tew be scared of, Omie,” he bellowed, and 
although she stood almost within reach of his hand, he 
scarcely heard her reply, which she uttered in a voice 
meant to be brave and laughing, “ I’m not scared — 
very. Only the thunder—” 

“ Pshaw, ‘ sticks and stones may break my bones, 
but saound will never hurt me,’ ” he answered. 

“ Oh, I know it’s silly, and that the lightning’s what 
does the damage, but I like tew see that, while the 
bangs remind me of — of guns, and I hate them.” 

“ Well, it’ll be over in a few minutes. Hang on, lit¬ 
tle girl.” His words were soothing even though he 
shouted them. 

“ I feel like a little girl, and — I’d like tew hang on 
tew your hand, if you don’t mind, Abe.” 

Her childlikeness aroused a protective compassion in 
the man’s heart and he stepped closer and reached out 
his hand to her. With a nervous little laugh she seized 
it in both of hers and he could feel the trembling of 
her body through the medium of her tightly clinging 
fingers. 

“That better? It’s passing by, already. Hark! ” 

The last word had hardly passed his lips when it 
seemed as though the retreating army fired a last tre¬ 
mendous broadside with its heaviest guns. A blinding 
flash rent the darkness outside the doorway and, simul¬ 
taneous with it and the terrific clap of thunder over- 



250 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


head, came the sound of a ripping and splintering, as 
the bolt tore through the heart of a young tree only a 
few yards distant. Their flesh tingled with the electric 
charge in the rain-filled air. Omie screamed and 
jumped. Her foot struck against a loose piece of lum¬ 
ber lying on the unfinished floor and she pitched for¬ 
ward. After that blinding flash the blackness seemed 
absolute; but Abe caught her, throwing out his free 
arm purely by instinct. He gathered her young, supple 
body to him and held her close, in a protecting, comfort¬ 
ing embrace, which drew still closer when another, 
though somewhat lesser, crash followed immediately. 
Omie’s arms slipped about his massive frame, her 
fingers clutched the back of his coat and, with eyes 
tightly closed, she pressed her face against his breast. 
She was now sobbing, rather hysterically, and, bending 
his head down until his cheek rested on her tumbled, 
silken hair, he began to speak quieting words, with lit¬ 
tle snatches of endearing phrases such as a man might 
use to a terrified child. 

Suddenly he stopped short and lifted his head with 
a jerk. His arms lessened their tension, although they 
did not entirely release her, and, if any one had been 
there to witness the change which came over his coun¬ 
tenance, now faintly disclosed by the growing light, he 
would have seen a look akin to dismay creep into his 
eyes. 

Abe had thought of another such tempest, and an¬ 
other man and another woman in each other’s arms, 
within the shelter of a new-built home. To all outward 
appearance history, as it was commonly known, was 
repeating itself in a startling fashion, and, although he 
knew that it was in appearance only, for there was no 
passion in his soul — nothing but protecting affection 



ADDITIONAL FUEL 


251 


— he thanked God that another person was not there 
to see and perhaps to misconstrue. 

The rain was still pouring down steadily, but the 
light was flooding back as the cloud-pack lifted above 
the western rim of hills and let through the horizontal 
rays of the setting sun, as ruddy as burnished copper, 
now. Omie was not yet aware of it, for her eyes were 
still tightly shut, and she made no move to change her 
position, continuing to cling almost desperately to him, 
although her sobs diminished and finally ceased alto¬ 
gether, with a half-audible little gasp. 

And then— There was a sound just outside the 
door, swiftly running steps, and into the aperture leaped 
Noah Fugate, the barest instant before the tableau 
within the room had its curtain. The youth’s clothing 
was drenched and his long black hair streaked down 
over his eyes and clinging to his brow. He halted 
sharply on realizing that the new cabin held occupants, 
and his expression of surprise changed to one of black 
anger with kaleidoscopic suddenness, as he swept his 
hair back and recognized the pair, who had hardly yet 
moved free of their mutual embrace. At the noise of 
the intrusion Omie half-turned in Abe’s arms, and, 
when she saw Noah almost within arm’s length of them, 
the warm blood dyed her neck and cheeks crimson and 
as quickly receded, leaving her face strangely pale. 

For an instant, which seemed to all of them im¬ 
measurably prolonged, none of the three spoke. Then 
Noah demanded hotly, “ What in h—1 air you dewing 
hyar . . . with her, Abe Blount? ” 

Although his heart was both hot and heavy, the man 
answered quietly, “ We came daown tew look over the 
new haouse, Noey, and got caught by the storm, just as 
you did.” 



252 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Hit’s a lie! You brought her hyar so’s you could 
hug and kiss her, aout uv sight. I knows hit, and 1 
won’t have hit! And maybe that hain’t all —” 

“That’s enough! ” Abe broke sharply in on the 
thick passion of his utterance. “ Don’t you dare say 
another word.” 

“ I dare say anything I d—n please. Everybody 
knows abaout what your paw —” 

“ Stop! ” 

Abe’s face was suddenly a picture of blazing wrath 
so terrible that Omie shrank back, and Noah retreated 
a step as his cousin strode forward with his arm raised 
and huge fist clenched. It was an involuntary move¬ 
ment on the part of the younger man for there was no 
suggestion of fear in his look, only hate. 

Very slowly Abe’s arm dropped to his side and his 
fist unclenched, although his fingers continued to work. 

“ Listen tew me, Noey,” he said slowly. “ I’ve told 
you the exact truth, and you know it. Omie was fright¬ 
ened by the bolt that struck just aoutside the door, 
stumbled and I caught her, that’s all. But, because of 
what happened before I was born, I won’t have even 
what I’ve told you, or what you’ve seen, mentioned 
aoutside. You understand, and there’s nothing more 
tew be said.” 

For another moment the two men stood, immovable, 
looking straight into each other’s eyes — in those of one 
undisguised fury; in those of the other indomitable 
will. Neither conquered. Unvanquished, Noah turned 
deliberately on his heel and walked out into the lessen¬ 
ing rain, and Abe faced the girl, his countenance the 
picture of sorrow and distress. 

“ You see, Omie? I have tew pay the penalty of a 
false reputation, and, if I have friends, they may be 
called upon tew suffer along with me, because of their 



ADDITIONAL FUEL 


253 


friendship. I’m terribly sorry that it happened — I 
can’t tell you haow sorry.” 

She answered bravely, “ You needn’t be, Abe. Dew 
you suppose I care what he said, or — or thought ? ” 
She looked unwaveringly up at him an instant before 
her eyes fell. 

“ Thank you for that. It means a lot tew me, Omie; 
but I’d give abaout everything I possess if it hadn’t 
happened. What did he mean, though, by saying that 
he wouldn’t have it? What was it tew him, anyway? ” 

“ Why — why —” she stammered, “ I reckon it’s be¬ 
cause he — he’s been trying tew — tew make love tew 
me.” 

Her voice dropped to a bare whisper as she finished 
the sentence. 

“ He has? That unruly young cub? ” Abe stopped 
as a new thought entered his mind, giving him a dis¬ 
tinct mental shock. “And — and you, Omie? Dew 
you — ? ” 

“Dew I love him?” Her scornful inflection was 
answer enough to the question which she completed 
for him. Then, under his steady, still-questioning gaze, 
her color flared high again, her lips half parted and her 
breathing quickened. It was for her a moment of 
awakening to a cataclysmic realization. Omie’s brain 
swam dizzily* from the* inrush of hot blood that was 
coursing madly through all of her veins, under the pro¬ 
pulsion of her painfully throbbing heart. Waves of 
alternating heat and cold passed over her body. The 
girl’s sensations were utterly strange to her, a com¬ 
bination of delirious ecstasy and anguish. Now she 
knew. There was no need for her to ask herself 
the question, “ Am I in love with Abe? ” It had come, 
tempestuously, with the tempest, leaving her suddenly 
weak and dismayed, eager to get away, to flee from 



254 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


him — from every one — and hide somewhere that she 
might think and feel; feel in recollection his strong 
arms holding her close, her body clinging to his, the 
touch of his cheek against her hair, which had set her 
a-tingle, like the electric charge in the air when the 
lightning’s bolt struck, and had stirred within her un¬ 
dreamed of longings of mind, soul and body. No one 
else had ever thrilled her being in such fashion. No 
one else ever could, or would, she thought, as her eyes 
dropped to evade his searching look. Without a word 
she sprang through the doorway and fled down the 
slope of the little knoll like a frightened thing, leaving 
the man completely astonished. 

Unversed in womankind, he had no conception of 
the truth, and set her peculiar behavior down to re¬ 
action from her two recent unpleasant experiences. She 
was upset and frightened, naturally, he told himself, as 
he hastened after her. 

Once more he overtook her before she had covered 
half the return distance; but this time she was not 
laughing gayly. She tried to keep her face turned 
away, but Abe observed, with another shock, that there 
were apparently tears mingled with the rain drops on 
her young face. He shortened his stride to match the 
hurried walk into which she had fallen, and for several 
rods continued in troubled silence, not knowing what 
to say to her. At length he asked, hesitatingly, “ Is 
anything the matter, Omie? ” 

The girl responded with a brave white lie. “ No. 
My — my head aches a little. The storm —” 

They had reached the foot-bridge over the swollen 
creek and she paused there with her hand on the rail¬ 
ing. 

“ Naow that’s too bad; but I don’t wonder. Aren’t 
you coming up tew the office again? ” 



ADDITIONAL FUEL 


255 


“ I don’t guess so, this evening. Reckon I’ll — go 
tew bed. Good-night, Abe.” 

Her voice choked a little, and, without looking at 
him or offering him her hand, she turned quickly and 
hurried across to her home. The man gave his head a 
sympathetic shake and, as he started to climb the steep 
rise to the House of Happiness, all of the spring had 
gone out of his step. On reaching her own doorway 
Omie had turned for an instant, then she entered her 
darkened bedroom, closed the door and, after standing 
irresolutely by the side of her bed for a moment, threw 
herself upon it with a smothered sob. 

Virgil greeted Abe at the door, his somewhat anxious 
expression changing to a smile of relief. 

“ I was just getting ready tew go and see if the bolt 
that struck somewhere up on the knoll singed you, but 
I see that it didn’t. Did you get wet? Where’s Omie 
— changing her clothes? ” 

“ No, tew everything. We were under cover, but the 
storm, especially that bolt which bisected one of my 
best young trees, gave Omie a little headache, and 
she’s turned in, I reckon. Anyway, she said she 
wouldn’t be over again to-night. Hello, Billy. You 
hyar? ” 

“ Haowdy, Abe,” responded the preacher, who had 
been waiting for him to return, and now gripped his 
hand in an eager, excited manner. “ I’ve got something 
fer you. You recollec’ my tellin’ you abaout thet thar 
moonshiner what had repented him uv his sins and 
given me information consarnin’ the men what war fur- 
nishin’ the money and the protection fer the boot¬ 
leggers? Well, he’s gone further then thet, naow. 
He’s give me a writin’, signed with his mark, an’ sworn 
tew thet hit’s the truth, the whole truth and nothin’ 



256 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


but the truth, and hit’s fer you, tew use in your fight 
agin the forces uv iniquity.” 

“ Hmmm. That’s mighty interesting, and it was 
mighty good of you tew have got it, Billy. But, I don’t 
know abaout using it — I’ll have tew think it over 
right smart. A serious charge like that, unless it can 
be supported, might prove tew be a two-edged sword 
and cut both ways. Still, a sworn affidavit — It may 
help me tew get other and first-hand evidence. Have 
you brought it with you? ” 

The preacher drew from his pocket a rather soiled 
sheet of foolscap and passed it to Abe, proudly. 
The State’s Attorney recognized the writing as Billy’s 
own painfully scrawled and quaintly spelled handiwork, 
and, knowing the labor which it had involved, felt a 
warm glow of appreciation. Then he began to read it, 
slowly and carefully. It was practically the same 
story which Billy had outlined to them, but in more 
detail, and with every name which the writer had been 
able to remember set down in cold black and white, 
damningly — among them that of the Honorable H. 
Clay Clayton. The men who had drunkenly boasted 
of their friends in high places had indeed first put some¬ 
thing in their mouths to steal away their brains. The 
signature, by a crude mark, and the formal affidavit 
were on the back of the sheet and, when Abe had 
turned it over and read that name, he gave a low whis¬ 
tle of surprise. For the man who was deliberately 
risking perhaps his very life to help him win was none 
other than his uncle, Noah’s father! 

“ Desty Fugate! ” he exclaimed. 

“ Hit’s the truth, Abe — the man whose still you cut 
up and thet you tried in the court uv the law, yourself. 
‘ The Lord moves in a mysterious way His won¬ 
ders tew perform.’ He put hit in Desty Fugate’s heart 



ADDITIONAL FUEL 


257 


tew help you, thet he had once thought war his enemy.” 

“ I reckon He acted through one of His human 
agents, as He generally does, and that you could tell 
the agent’s name, Billy,” said the other, smiling, yet 
considerably moved. “ I’m right glad tew have this, 
for it proves that I was right abaout Desty; but— I 
can’t use it, naow.” 

“ You kin! He wants fer you tew. And he’s ready 
tew go a-fore a jury and sware that what’s writ daown 
thar is true. He sez thet, if you won’t dew hit, when 
hit’ll dew the most good, he’s a-goin’ tew tell the story 
hisself. And you kain’t stop him. And he’s give me 
the right tew tell hit, too. Dew you think thet / air 
afeered uv ’em and what they may dew, whatever? ” 

Billy’s eyes flashed and his countenance took on 
something of the look of illuminated spiritual resolve 
which the militant saints of old must have worn when 
they faced every danger, even martyrdom, unafraid, 
for the cause of righteousness. 

Abe did not show how deeply he was moved by this 
declaration. He could not allow these friends of his 
to put themselves in danger by making such a serious 
and shocking charge against men high in the esteem 
of their fellows, and for him to do it personally might 
lay him open to a charge of cowardly slander and bring 
both professional and political ruin. He must have 
time to think the matter out, quietly, and in the mean¬ 
while hold these two zealous enthusiasts in check. 

He temporized by saying, “ Well, I’ll see — only I 
want you to promise me that you won’t breathe a word 
of this to any one until I say the word, Billy.” 

Rather reluctantly and with obvious disappointment, 
Billy agreed. 

The next morning Omie was not present at the early 
breakfast which had been prepared for Abe, having 



258 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


sent word by Camille that her head still ached, and 
the man had to depart without seeing either the girl 
or the interior of his new cottage home. But the brief 
trip, which had been, like life in miniature, a combina¬ 
tion of good and evil, sunshine and storm, laughter and 
tears, had stiffened up his shaken resolve and he 
plunged anew into his work and campaign with eager 
zest. And it must be written that in the tremendous 
press of the two, during the fortnight which followed, 
he very rarely thought of either the girl or the home, 
save for a rare moment occasionally, after he had tum¬ 
bled into bed, in the brief drowsy period between his 
wakeful planning for the morrow and the coming of 
sleep born of utter weariness. 

It was not so with Omie, however. 



CHAPTER IV 


THE POT BOILS 

The State’s Attorney’s single assistant was an en¬ 
thusiastic, hard-working young man by the name of 
John Fay. His ancestry was of the mountains, and 
the little town of Fayville derived its name from the 
family; but he had been born, brought up and edu¬ 
cated in Culverton City, and it was there that he, little 
more than a boy, had first met the young lawyer, Abe 
Blount, and fallen under the spell of his personality 
and influence. Their liking had become mutual; Abe 
had grown to be a sort of mentor for the youth, had 
turned his feet into the field of the law, helped him 
with his studies, and, after he had been admitted to 
the bar, given him a desk in his own office. 

While his friend was serving as Sheriff, young Fay 
had handled many of the minor cases which Abe’s 
clients brought in, and he was quite naturally selected 
as his assistant when the Sheriff returned to the prac¬ 
tice of law as State’s Attorney. 

If Abe could be said to have a manager for his cam¬ 
paign, Fay occupied the position, for, although the 
candidate made his own plans, he was fully in his con¬ 
fidence and the two talked over every move, together. 
Because of his connections and wide acquaintanceship 
in Culverton City the younger man had assumed par¬ 
ticular charge of the campaign there, and, through his 
popularity, ceaseless energy and unbounded enthusi¬ 
asm, he had succeeded in building up a fairly substan¬ 
tial following for his candidate, although they both 
recognized the fact that that locality, as well as the 
259 


260 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


other towns, would go heavily for Clayton at the elec¬ 
tion. Still, every vote which they could win over from 
the other camp would count double, and Fay had been 
highly optimistic over the prospect. 

On the morning of the fifth day before the primaries, 
Fay returned from an overnight visit to his home 
town and entered the office with his young good-look¬ 
ing face almost haggard from the strain of concentrated 
campaigning until well after midnight and his curly 
hair damp and clinging to his temples from excitement 
and hard riding. 

Abe was deeply engrossed in the preparation of a 
brief and greeted his arrival merely by a nod and the 
words, “ ’Morning, John,” without raising his eyes 
from his papers. 

The younger man recognized the “ Silence ” sign, 
threw himself wearily into a chair and began to fan 
himself with his hat. For a time there was no sound 
in the little office except the scratching of the lopsided 
stub pen with which Abe was making notes in his self- 
evolved system of shorthand, and the irritating buzz 
of a horse-fly which continually banged his multiple¬ 
eyed head against the upper window pane in an effort 
to get outside, although the lower half of the window 
was wide open. Finally Fay’s keyed-up nerves could 
stand it not an instant longer. He jumped up, smashed 
the fly against the glass, and then snatched the offend¬ 
ing implement of industry from his chief’s hand. 

Abe looked at him in mild surprise, and then, read¬ 
ing ill-omened tidings on his friend’s face, asked, 
“ What’s up, John? ” 

The other dropped into a chair by the corner of the 
desk and responded, savagely, “ Everything’s up — un¬ 
less a miracle happens.” 

The expression on Abe’s countenance did not change. 



THE POT BOILS 


261 


He merely swung half around in his chair, stuck out 
his legs and thrust his hands into his trousers pockets, 
waiting for the explosion. 

It came. 

“ I spent six damnable haours last night listening 
first tew bad news and then to worse. The machine 
has been using gold thread galore and got things sewed 
up tight, there. We’re steadily losing graound in the 
taowns every day, and something drastic’s got tew be 
done in a hurry or we’re licked tew a frazzle.” 

“ I reckon. Well, have you got anything tew sug¬ 
gest? ” 

“Yes, I have; and I’m not alone in suggesting it. 
We’ve simply got tew take a chance, Abe, and spring 
that Fugate affidavit — it’s aour only hope. Macey 
said the same thing last night, and he’s a pretty wise 
bird concerning politics — you remember my telling 
you abaout Mark Macey, the fellow who was a school 
chum of mine and is naow holding daown a desk job on 
The News? ” 

“ The one who told you that nine aout of ten of 
their editorial and reportorial staff, including ‘ the old 
man,’ himself, were going tew vote for me? ” asked the 
other, with a suggestion of a twinkle lighting up his 
tired eyes. 

“ Yes, and it’s a fact. He still says so. You’ve got 
tew remember that even the ‘ old man ’ is a ‘ hired 
man ’ but their votes are their own, even if they have 
tew write and print the sort of stuff they are handing 
aout daily, or lose their jobs. They realize it’s bunk, 
even if ninety-nine aout of every hundred of their read¬ 
ers take it for gospel truth just because they see it in 
print. Oh, you know that as well as I dew.” Abe 
nodded. “ I talked with him for an haour, last night, 
and he said that, if we hadn’t anything more tew spring 



262 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


than we’d sprung already, we’re done for; that Clay¬ 
ton has every advantage; he’s already in office — en¬ 
trenched; his record is good; he’s popular; he’s got the 
machine and plenty of funds back of him and —” Fay 
stopped for lack of breath and his voice choked a lit¬ 
tle. “—and he’s coming stronger every day, while 
we’re slipping back. Well, I told him in confidence 
abaout that affidavit that you’ve been keeping in the 
safe — only the gist of it, of course, and not mention¬ 
ing any names but Clayton’s — and he said, ‘ For 
God’s sake spring itl Is Abe Blount going tew take it 
tew bed with him? It’s your one chance. Clayton’ll 
yell like a stuck pig and threaten all sorts of things, of 
course; but he won’t dare to take any action for fear 
that you may have the goods on him, and it might turn 
the tide at the eleventh haour.’ And I say the same. 
Let’s show up that darned hypocrite — he’s simply 
getting away with murder , naow.” 

During this outburst, and for an appreciable time 
after it, Abe sat without altering his position, looking 
out of the window, his lips pursed in a soundless whis¬ 
tle, while the younger man fidgeted nervously in his 
chair. Then the candidate spoke. 

“ I reckon that I’ve gone over the pros and cons of 
all those arguments a hundred times already, in my 
mind, and haven’t yet decided what’s best tew dew, 
John. You and your friend are both young; youth is 
impetuous and careless of consequence, but I’m trying 
tew consider every possibility. The thing is loaded 
with dynamite and there’s no knowing which way it’ll 
explode.” 

“ Don’t I know that, too? Just the same, I say, 
‘ touch a match tew the fuse and take a chance.’ It’s 
aour only one. As things stand to-day we’re done. 
The machine will get out the big vote in the taowns and 



THE POT BOILS 


263 


we can’t be sure of getting half — no, nor a quarter — 
of the maountaineers to the polls. They haven’t got 
the voting habit. Of course it might back-fire and wipe 
us off the map; but we may as well be killed for a 
sheep as a lamb.” 

“ Well, the Court will take the matter under advise¬ 
ment, again, and let you know the decision before 
night, John. And don’t feel so badly abaout the situa¬ 
tion, son. I’ll admit that you’ve brought bad news; 
but I had anticipated it — and shan’t let it drive me 
tew drink.” 

Fay smiled for the first time. Then his face grew 
troubled again, and he said, “ I told you that I had bad 
news — and worse . And it is, in a way. I heard some¬ 
thing else daown there that you ought tew hear abaout. 
You know those damnable lies abaout you that they’ve 
been passing araound, sub rosa. Well, they’ve got a 
new one, naow. I heard it from two or three sources. 
It seems tew have started in the coal mines — the Peo¬ 
ple’s Party — but Clayton’s craowd is using it for all 
they’re worth and Macey got it direct from one of his 
right-hand men. Of course I told ’em that it was a 
damned lie and tew get busy contradicting it; but the 
story is all over the place and hurting us, especially 
among the Law and Order craowd and the women.” 

Abe’s lanky form stiffened, slightly, but his expres¬ 
sion did not change until Fay made the blunt announce¬ 
ment, “ They’re saying that abaout two weeks ago you 
were caught in the dark in an untenanted cabin with a 
young girl.” 

The State’s Attorney’s countenance grew white and 
his eyes changed to a steely gray. 

“ Is that — all? ” he demanded. 

“ No. They say that the girl was Virgil Gayheart’s 
kid sister, up at Smiling Pass.” 



264 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Instantly Abe was on his feet, his arm raised and 
fist clenched as it had been against Noah Fugate. Now 
his face was mottled, his eyes flaming with passion. 
In a voice which was not loud, but yet terrible, he 
burst out, “ By heaven, if I ever hear, or hear of, any 
man repeating that story, I’ll — no, I won’t kill him, 
but I’ll thrash him within a hair’s breadth of his life.” 
Slowly his arm sank, the fire and cloud died out of his 
face, leaving it ashen-hued, his voice dropped and grew 
troubled. “ Yet haow can I dew even that? For the 
story’s literally true, John. It’s only the implication, 
the insinuation made by a whisper, a lifted eyebrow, a 
meaning smile that’s a damned lie.” He went on, more 
quietly, to recount what had really occurred during the 
storm and added, “ But she isn’t a kid, she’s a young 
woman and a mighty attractive one, which makes the 
story more plausible, and worse. It’s too late tew stop 
it at its source, naow, but I’m going tew find that source 

— Noey Fugate — as soon as the Lord will let me, and 

— I don’t know what then, except that he’ll know I’ve 
been tew see him.” 

“ Steady, Abe. There’s no question but that he de¬ 
serves anything that you’d hand him, but that milk’s 
spilt. What we especially want tew dew is stop its 
spreading, if we can; although hanged if I know haow. 
Why, even Clayton made reference tew it, by innuendo, 
in his speech night before last, and Macey said that it 
got him a big hand, which means that a lot, at least, of 
his auditors knew what he had reference tew.” 

“ What did he say? ” 

“ Macey could remember only in a general way — 
the speech wasn’t taken daown and printed; but he 
said that it was tew the effect that his private life, like 
his political record, was an open book, and he thanked 
God that there was no reason why he couldn’t look any 



THE POT BOILS 


265 


pure woman in the eyes. It was the Pharisee, wasn’t 
it, who thanked God that he was not as other men? 
And Christ classed them with the hypocrites.” 

Abe did not answer immediately. His hands slowly 
clenched, his jaw set and the lines about his mouth 
seemed to deepen. They were visible evidences of the 
terrific eruption occurring within his soul, like turmoil 
on the ocean’s surface when, deep below, its bed is rent 
asunder by an earthquake. There was a vibrant note 
in his voice, too, when he finally spoke, which would 
have been a tremble of rage if his control had been a 
little less nearly complete. 

“ I’m right sorry for his daughter, John, but we’re 
going tew take issue with that statement and open tew 
the public gaze at least one hidden leaf in that book he 
mentioned. You’ve been urging me tew take a chance; 
I’ll take that chance, naow. If he wants tew sue me 
for malicious slander and defamation of character, let 
him! And for the rest, I say, with Peter Sterling, 
1 Votes be damned! ’ ” 

“ That’s the stuff, Abe.” His friend sprang up and 
grasped his hand hard. “ I knew you wouldn’t stand 
for that withaout hitting back, and straight from the 
shoulder. When will you dew it? ” 

“ Soon as possible; I’d like tew dew it this minute. 
Can you hire a place tew speak in and get me an audi¬ 
ence in Culverton City — we’ll carry the fight right in- 
tew his own bailiwick — by to-morrow night? ” 

“ Can a duck swim? I’ll get the Opera House—■ 
there’s nothing going on weather like this , except the 
movies three times a week. I’ll get flyers printed and 
distributed, and I’ll get a story in the morning paper 
promising folks the sensation of their young lives, and 
you won’t be able tew keep ’em away with a machine 
gun. Wait and see. G’by.” 



266 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


He snatched his hat from the desk and fairly sprinted 
out of the office, his face no longer worn and weary 
looking, but lighted up with the glow of fresh enthusi¬ 
asm and youthful eagerness. 

Abe also left, a moment later, and, although he did 
not run, his long stride covered the ground with a speed 
equal to the quick trot of a smaller man. 

The State’s Attorney reached Smiling Pass in close 
to record time, with his horse breathing hard and 
streaked with lather. For once the long ride in the 
sunlight under the smiling sky, the communion with 
nature in her most peaceful mood, and physical exer¬ 
cise had neither calmed the angry tumult in his heart 
nor cooled his heated thoughts. There was storm 
within his brain and the shadow of it hung over his 
countenance. Virgil, passing from one building to an¬ 
other in the wake of a dozen small boys, caught sight 
of him thundering up the last stretch of creek road. 
He guessed that something was amiss, ordered his 
charges to go on, and himself ran down to open the 
gate. 

Abe reined up, just inside, and his friend caught 
the bit of the excited horse and unconsciously patted 
his dripping neck as he looked inquiringly up at the 
rider. 

Without greeting or preamble Abe demanded, 
“ Where’s Noey? ” 

“ I don’t know. He’s gone.” 

“ Gone? When?” 

“ Abaout two weeks ago. I think it was the night 
that you were up hyar. He hasn’t shown up, either at 
the school or his paw’s cabin, since.” 

“ And you don’t know where — ? ” 

“ No. Desty was plumb worried abaout him for a 



267 


THE POT BOILS 


week or so, but then some one or other brought him 
word that Noey had gone tew get himself a job in one 
of the coal mines. Reckon that the high pay they’re 
offering tew strike-breakers was too much of a tempta¬ 
tion, but he’s a fool, for he was getting along wonder¬ 
fully, hyar.” 

“ He’s worse than a fool; but not for clearing aout.” 

“ What’s wrong, Abe? ” 

Virgil had taken note of the sudden change in his 
visitor’s appearance, a general relaxation and letting 
down which was made manifest by the way his body 
drooped wearily over the pummel of the saddle and the 
tension went out of the muscles of his jaw, leaving his 
face merely drawn and tired-looking. 

“ You may as well know — you ought tew know, 
Virge. I didn’t tell you abaout it on the night of the 
thunder storm because I didn’t think that it was neces¬ 
sary. But naow —” 

He again recounted fully what had occurred at the 
new cottage, and Virgil experienced all of the same 
emotions which the other had undergone during Fay’s 
repetition of the story. 

“ The dirty dogs,—and damn Noey Fugate! ” he 
cried, when Abe had finished. “ It makes me want tew 
dig aout my old army rifle and start on a man-hunt, 
myself. Blame you? Nonsense. Why should I blame 
you? Good Lord, I’d trust you with Omie, or any other 
girl, as soon as I would myself.” 

His hand, wet with lather from the horse, gripped 
Abe’s hard. 

“ Where is Omie? ” asked the other as an after¬ 
thought. 

“ Daown at the school-haouse. Got a third-grade 
class this haour, but she’ll be back for dinner, and 
mighty glad tew see you.” 





268 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“No. I can’t stop; not another minute. I’ve got 
tew see Desty on my way daown, for I’m planning tew 
spring his affidavit to-morrow night.” 

“ Good! ” 

“ That remains tew be seen. But, good or bad, I’m 
going tew make known the truth abaout the Honorable 
H. Clay Clayton, if I can. Reckon that they’ll call me 
a vile traducer and assassin and a lot of other choice 
names; but at least I’ll dew it in the open; I won’t stick 
a knife in his back under cover of the darkness. Ex¬ 
plain tew Omie and the others why I didn’t stop, won’t 
you? And tell her — no, better not tell her anything, 
especially abaout this. Haow is she? ” 

“ Not so good. Been sort of off her feed for a couple 
of weeks, and we haven’t been able tew get anything 
aout of her. Reckon I understand, naow. Besides, 
she’s sort of grown up, this summer, and is beginning 
tew take the world pretty seriously; been worrying 
abaout you and your fight a good deal, too. She thinks 
a heap of you, Abe.” 

“ Bless her! And I of her. I couldn’t care any 
more for her if she were my own sister, or daughter. 
She might almost be, you know, as far as age is con¬ 
cerned.” Abe’s face lighted up a little with a sugges¬ 
tion of a smile. “ Give her my love, Virge.” 

He turned his mount and was off again at a hard can¬ 
ter. And, through the school-room window, Omie 
caught sight of him riding past without even a glance 
in her direction, and suddenly the figures on the black¬ 
board grew misty and wavering before her eyes. 

For twenty-four hours, almost without ceasing, John 
Fay had worked like a dog, a slave, a madman, a Tro¬ 
jan. Now the evening of the second day had come 
and his Herculean task was done, and well done. As- 




THE POT BOILS 


269 


sisted by a half-a-dozen of his former comrades, whose 
aid he had enlisted and who, catching some of his own 
infectious enthusiasm, had taken the day off from their 
respective businesses, he had accomplished all that he 
had promised his chief, and more. The political editor 
of the Culverton daily newspaper had drastically blue 
penciled Macey’s half-column story announcing the 
rally, cutting it to about a “ stick,” but there was news, 
spelled with a capital N, in the open hint of a bomb¬ 
shell which the State’s Attorney was going to explode, 
and he had permitted enough to get in to touch a spark 
to inflammable curiosity. Hundreds of thin paper fly¬ 
ers, hastily printed and distributed, had fanned the 
flame, for they bore the catch words, “ Abe Blount to 
Speak Bluntly. A plain man will tell the people plain 
facts which they have a right to know.” Lip rumor 
had done the rest. 

The young lawyer had proved himself an able gen¬ 
eral. Sensation — indefinite, but all the more in¬ 
triguing for that — was in the air, and many who were 
red hot for Clayton fully intended to be present. If 
anything out of the ordinary was actually to be sprung, 
they wanted to hear it with their own ears. Fay had 
foreseen this, and to make sure that the audience would 
be a friendly one, he and his workers had, by personal 
and telephoned appeal, pledged enough men and women 
who were friendly to the State’s Attorney to attend the 
rally, and come early, so that the auditorium would be 
packed. Not content with this, and realizing the news 
value of a crowd outside the door unable to get in, he 
had arranged to have a cornetist stationed on the steps, 
illuminated by red fire, playing martial and patriotic 
airs from seven-thirty until the speaking should com¬ 
mence. 

All this John Fay had, with honest pride, reported 



270 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


to his chief upon the latter’s arrival at the hotel just in 
time for a hasty supper; and the further fact that ten 
of the city’s prominent men and women were to lend 
added impressiveness to the occasion by gracing the 
platform, and that his old friend and early patron, the 
Judge, had agreed to introduce him. Abe thanked him 
with few words, but they were enough. 

“ Have you got your speech written aout? ” Fay had 
inquired. “ The reporters have been haowling for the 
‘ copy ’ of it, already.” 

“ They’ll have tew keep on haowling, and take it 
stenographically, if they want it. I never wrote aout 
a political speech in my life, and this one, above all, 
has got tew be the result of the moment’s inspiration; 
— pray heaven I may have some, John,” was the 
State’s Attorney’s answer. 

Now the hour had arrived, and Fay viewed the re¬ 
sult of his labors with combined pride and nervous 
quakings. The Opera House was filled to its full five 
hundred capacity; the vestibule was filled; the steps 
outside were filled; the cornetist was playing a final 
Southern tune to a crowd of at least a hundred more 
on the sidewalk and street, who were loath to depart 
when he did, although there was not a chance of their 
getting even to the doors. 

At one minute past eight o’clock the special invitees 
filed onto the stage and took their seats, welcomed by 
somewhat perfunctory applause; the crowd wanted the 
star, not the supporting mute chorus. “ We want 
‘ aour David ’ ! ” cried a big voice with a mountain 
twang, and the audience laughed and cheered. 

And, as though in answer to the demand, Abe him¬ 
self appeared, his towering, lanky form clad in an ill- 
fitting frock coat, his gray trousers bagging slightly 
at the knees and missing his boot tops by an inch. This 



THE POT BOILS 


271 


was the signal for which Fay and his prime supporters, 
now scattered by design about the auditorium, had been 
waiting. Their concerted cheer and applause acted 
like so many matches touched to a plot of dry grass. 
The result seemed to be spontaneous combustion, for 
the audience rose up, en masse, applauding and cheer¬ 
ing. It was kept up for close to two minutes, the 
benevolent conspirators starting the tumult afresh 
whenever it began to show signs of subsiding. When 
the audience resumed its seats with a clatter and rustle, 
the Judge stepped forward. 

“ Friends and fellow citizens,” he said. “ My con¬ 
ception of the duty of one who is tew introduce a 
speaker whom everybody knows, personally, or by his 
reputation for notable achievements, is — tew introduce 
him. I take great pleasure in presenting tew you aour 
distinguished, fighting State’s Attorney, Abraham 
Blount.” 

The Judge sat down, his part perfectly done. Again 
the applause broke out, and from the platform the 
auditorium looked like a sea the surface of which is 
whipped into dancing whitecaps — with here and there 
a rock of silence appearing to indicate the presence 
of a Clayton supporter. 

Abe bowed his head slightly, in acknowledgment, and 
strode to the edge of the platform. For a full half 
minute he stood, quiet, stern and unnaturally pale, 
looking his audience over. Then he began to speak. 
His voice was even and unemotional, yet there was in 
it a vibrant note which carried it to the farthest corner. 



CHAPTER V 


THE POT BOILS OVER 

For nearly three-quarters of an hour Abe’s speech 
followed its customary course. The majority of his 
auditors gave him close attention and frequent ap¬ 
plause; but in time some began to question in their 
minds whether anything out of the ordinary was going 
to occur, after all, and show a little disappointment, 
while five or six, who were of the other camp, got up 
and left, with no attempt to move quietly. Yet most 
of them seemed to feel that he was holding back; not 
merely reserving something for a climax, but laboring 
under some unusual restraint. Actors understand the 
dramatic value of this, and with Abe, who was not act¬ 
ing, it lent added conviction to his spoken words. He 
was quiet but forceful; he held them by sincerity and 
cold logic, rather than sensationalism and oratorical 
effects. Even his usual bits of apropos humor were 
mostly lacking. 

But toward the close of the “ Law and Order ” part 
of his speech a new note began to creep into his words 
and voice alike, carrying with it a preliminary thrill, a 
sudden tension in his audience. It was like the electri¬ 
cal tingling in the atmosphere which sometimes pre¬ 
cedes the breaking of a storm. 

“ But if obedience tew law should be the duty, re¬ 
spect tew law the delight, of all true citizens, haow 
much more so should it be the duty and delight of 
those who hold high office; of those who have un- 
equivocably sworn to uphold and defend it; of those 
who, perhaps, have made it by their own votes in the 
272 


THE POT BOILS OVER 


273 


legislatures of State or Nation? We naturally look to 
them for example, inspiration, guidance. If they fail, 
wherein is aour hope? If the legislator breaks the 
law, especially if he breaks it with seeming impunity, 
can we expect Tom, Dick and Harry to obey it? Or 
expect them to suffer their punishment if they, lacking 
adroitness in the breach, are caught, withaout being 
tempted tew go the whole route and join the red ranks 
of Anarchy? 

“ Nothing is cheaper than lip service. Any one can 
proclaim allegiance tew the Flag, the Constitution, and 
all for which they stand. But unfortunately there are 
many that dew this whose secret acts belie their spoken 
words — and the former speak the more truly as well 
as the more laoudly in the end. I have touched frankly 
on the subject of prohibition. The Eighteenth Amend¬ 
ment is part of the law of the land. Yet you know, and 
I know, that there are plenty who voted for that law, 
and whose public utterances are all in favor of its con¬ 
tinuance, who still always keep ‘ a leetle ’ in the haouse, 
or on the hip — in case of sudden sickness. (Laugh¬ 
ter.) And that ‘ leetle ’ is by no means always old 
private stock which was lawfully in their possession 
prior to June twenty-ninth, Nineteen Twenty. (Loud 
laughter.) These gentlemen are the hip-pocket de¬ 
fenders of the law, and we can expect little from their 
leadership but general and increasing disregard of that, 
and of all law. If this particular piece of enacted legis¬ 
lation is repugnant tew their honest, though secret, 
views, and they and those who think with them are a 
majority of the people, let them cast aside hypocrisy 
and change it. The Constitutional right is theirs. 
Otherwise, let them obey it. If a nation which owes 
allegiance tew but one authority, the law which its peo¬ 
ple has accepted for their government, willfully dis- 



274 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


obeys that sovereignty it pronaounces its own inevita¬ 
ble doom. And the officers, of whatever station, who 
are elected tew create or tew administer that law, 
should be like Caesar’s wife in the play —‘ above suspi¬ 
cion.’ When Suspicion points her shadowy finger at 
them there is danger; when she is substantiated there is 
disaster. Democracy suffers for their sins; reproach 
falls upon the Party which placed them in office. 

“ This is particularly true, to-day. There is a spirit 
of unrest and revolt in the air. Extremes — anything 
which has not yet been tried and faound wanting in 
some respect — beckon invitingly. The people are 
tired of being herded, voiceless, along devious, but pre¬ 
routed, paths by machine-made politicians, whose 
paower is the paower of money and a practiced skill 
in manipulating the wires. They want, and need, lead¬ 
ers, not masters. Above all they want and need men 
on whose honesty and integrity they can rely. Those 
who have bartered these primary requisites to satisfy 
some weak or wicked desire dew not deserve tew be 
again entrusted with authority. 

“ For some minutes I have been talking generalities, 
but there are plenty of specific instances tew be 
faound; yes, within aour own state. I naow purpose 
tew give you a definite example of what I have been 
referring tew, generally. It is not a pleasant thing tew 
have tew dew. The truth is not always pleasant, but 
there are times when the most disagreeable of truths 
must be disclosed; a diseased spot in the human body 
or the body politic is not pleasant, but that is no reason 
for ignoring its existence. The sooner either is known, 
the sooner it will be remedied. I shall present it in the 
nature of a story, but a true story which has been put 
in the form of an affidavit and duly sworn tew. That 
affidavit is in my possession. I have it — hyar! ” 



THE POT BOILS OVER 


275 


As Abe spoke these words and drew from his inside 
breast pocket the soiled sheet of foolscap, there was a 
sharp intaking of breath, throughout the audience, 
which sounded like a great sigh. There was a general 
rustle and creaking of chairs as his hearers leaned 
eagerly forward, tensing themselves for what was com¬ 
ing. 

“ The story is in two parts,” he continued, evenly. 
u The first part contains merely hearsay evidence, as 
we lawyers call testimony of the type of ‘ He told me 
that such and such a think had happened.’ It is not 
generally admissible evidence in a court of law; but 
this is not a court of law. All stories beginning, 1 They 
say ’ which are told, or secretly whispered, in a political 
campaign are not true. This one is. The man who 
told it — not tew me, for I obtained it later — and who 
signed and attested it, has been a moonshiner and boot¬ 
legger, a breaker of the law. He is that no longer. 
He made this statement — confession, if you like — 
of his own free will and accord when he put off the old 
life. It is a thing filled with potential danger tew him, 
but knowledge of that fact did not deter him. This is 
a token of his sincerity, and the truth of the story. 

“ I am going tew read what I call c Part One * sim¬ 
ply because it has a vital connection with the second 
part. For reasons which will, I think, be obvious, I shall 
not mention the men involved, by name, for they are 
unequivocably charged with being principals in, or ac¬ 
cessories tew, a serious crime against the state. When 
the time is ripe — when other and first-hand evidence 
is secured against them — their names and this affidavit 
will be placed in the hands of proper authorities for 
prosecution . . . and that time will soon come f my 
friends. To-night, haowever, I shall substitute for 
those names the letters A, B, C, D, and E. ‘ A ’ will 




276 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


stand for a certain man, well-known by name to most 
of you, who is deep, very deep in the affairs of state 
and the councils of the party tew which we belong.” 

“Malley! ” whispered Fay, under his breath. He 
had been listening, spellbound, to his chief’s cautious 
yet highly effective handling of the “ dynamite.” And 
“ Malley ” whispered Macey to a fellow reporter in the 
gallery. “ Malley — it’s a hundred tew one shot.” 

“ Better not hint it in print, son,” answered the other. 
Macey grinned. “ Think I’m a damned fool? ” 

“ ‘ B ’ will stand for one who bears the honorable 
title of Judge, but who perverts justice for favor and 
dishonors the Bench on which he sits.” 

“ Judge Siscomb,” whispered Macey, and the other 
said, “ Shut up! D’you want tew be tried for treason? 
Abe’s getting off some fine back-handed honorary de¬ 
gree stuff, though.” 

“ Yes, in the College of ‘ Hard Knocks.’ ” 

“ 1 C,’ ” continued the speaker, “ for a lawyer of 
great ability and brilliant success as a defendants’ coun¬ 
sel; once a man beyond reproach; naow one who pros¬ 
titutes his high profession for larger gains — a hireling 
of law-breakers.” 

“ Hot stuff! ” came the whisper. 

“ 1 D,’ for a widely known finacier, tew whom breach 
of the law has become a source of greatly increased 
income. ‘E’— I will not naow describe ‘ E ’ tew you, 
for the charge which I have tew make against him is 
of a different nature, and he is the —‘ hero,’ shall we 
say? — of Part Two of the story.” 

Abe paused for a moment and the buzz of whis¬ 
pered conjecture and comment became general. 

“ For three years the author of this affidavit made 
a comfortable living at his illicit trade of supplying 
thirsty throats in the foothill taowns, and further, with 



THE POT BOILS OVER 


277 


maountain dew. His would have been an extremely 
profitable business, but for the fact that in this, as in 
most occupations to-day, the producer receives but a 
lean reward for his labor; the middleman gets the fat. 
The scene is laid in a tumbled-daown cabin on the aout- 
skirts of this very city, tew which he had brought an 
unusually large consignment of his manufactured prod¬ 
uct tew deliver tew three bootleggers who were tew 
distribute it in other and more distant sections. They 
are the middlemen, a step higher up in the hierarchy 
of the profession and as such versed in all its ramifica¬ 
tions. In other words, they were ‘ in the know.’ 

“ Assuming, as I hope I have a right tew, that none 
of you are familiar with the customs of the bootlegging 
fraternity [Laughter ... a little high-pitched, for his 
audience was getting on edge] I will say that, what¬ 
ever may be the fact elsewhere, in this part of the 
country whenever its members meet tew transact busi¬ 
ness or make a delivery tew a customer, part of their 
wet goods is immediately and mutually consumed. 
Oh, yes, the Billionaire pledges the health of the Boot¬ 
legger and is pledged in turn. One taste of liquor 
makes the whole world kin, naow-a-days. I have heard 
one maountaineer say that he has had tew drink 
with as many as ten different customers in one eve¬ 
ning.” 

There was a tittering of laughter in one corner of the 
hall, where a man had exclaimed, soulfully, “ Oh, for 
a job like that! ” 

“ You know that strong drink befuddles the brain 
and loosens the tongue, and aour ‘ White Mule ’ sure is 
strong drink. The maountaineer had been brought up 
on it; he could drink it almost like water and retain his 
faculties. Not so, his overlords. They talked, freely 
and boastfully. He listened with interest. With them 



278 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


it was a case of temporary lunacy, for ‘ lunacy 7 means 
literally madness induced by moonshine. I will naow 
read tew you the first part of his affidavit, covering 
what was said . 77 

He picked up the paper and began, lapsing into the 
pronunciation of his people, so that his hearers felt that 
they were listening to the ex-bootlegger himself. 

As he finished, he said, parenthetically, “ You will 
please note especially what was said concerning aour 
‘ E 7 — in effect that he was the, perhaps unsuspecting, 
tool of these others; a safe man tew have in a high of¬ 
fice because of his popularity and unquestioned prob¬ 
ity; that he was one of several supported by this politi¬ 
cal-bootlegging ring as a convenient cloak for their il¬ 
legal activities. 

“ Part Two of the story also has its scene in this city, 
but amid very different surroundings. Instead of a 
shack, it is a handsome southern mansion with a pil¬ 
lared portico. The evidence differs, too. This time it 
is ‘ first hand 7 for the maker of this affidavit visited 
it, personally, again at night, himself tew supply one 
of his regular customers with corn whiskey — he made 
a purer and more potent distillation than any other 
maountaineer in the state, it is said. That purchaser 
was a lawbreaker, as well as the seller. But naow-a- 
days the former’s act has come tew be regarded by 
many as a venial sin, at the worst. Have we not read, 
perhaps with a smile, that even some Members of Con¬ 
gress still have their liquor bootlegged tew them in the 
office buildings devoted by the government tew their 
use, and even drink it in the restaurants under the 
dome of the Capitol itself, where the Eighteenth 
Amendment was framed and enthusiastically passed by 
their votes? At any event he was one who falls within 
the category of the 4 hip-pocket defenders of the law, 



THE POT BOILS OVER 


279 


who keep a leetle in the haouse ’— and you know 
haow I stand in relation tew such. 

“ But what interests me even more than that, at the 
present time, is this sworn statement.” He read, <u He’ 
— the owner of the haouse —‘ asked me in tew drink, 
and thar I met up with A, C and D, who joked with me 
fer a piece and then began tew talk politics with E, 
again. They war urgin’ him tew run again fer Con¬ 
gress/ And the 4 E ’ of both parts of this sworn story, 
ladies and gentlemen, with the name fully written aout 
in this affidavit, is — Henry Clay Clayton.” 

A tumult of sound swept through the audience, but 
Abe checked it as speedily as he could by raising his 
hand for silence, and concluded, “ With this evidence 
that he is at least the catspaw for one of the most 
vicious rings within the state — and I charge nothing 
more — will the people of this Congressional District 
continue tew accept him as their leader and try tew 
return him tew the Haouse as their chosen Representa¬ 
tive? ” 

“No! ” yelled Fay, and the negation was wildly 
caught up all over the hall by the excited audience, 
which had risen to its collective feet as Abe stepped 
back, and were cheering and applauding loudly. 

Preparatory to an early start back to Fayville, the 
State’s Attorney and his assistant breakfasted at six- 
thirty, the next morning. It was a very good Southern 
breakfast, considering the hour; but, for all John Fay 
knew or cared, the oatmeal submerged in thick cream 
might have been boiled hay; the crispy sugar-cured 
ham and scrambled eggs, shoe-leather and sawdust; 
the steaming, aromatic black coffee, tepid dish-water. 
For, early as the hour was, he had already been out, 
obtained a copy of the News, and was still sputtering 




280 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


from the douche of cold water which had extinguished 
the last spark of the blazing enthusiasm that had been 
his the night before. No sun shone, the day had 
dawned gray and unusually gloomy for midsummer¬ 
time, he was in the gloomiest depths of the “ morning- 
after ” reaction, and correspondingly bitter toward the 
world in general, and the paper which he was shaking, 
as though it were to blame, in particular. 

“ I saw what Macey wrote for an introduction, and 
just look at the way some craven-souled, machine- 
owned, boot-licking desk editor has twisted it 
araound! ” he cried. “ Mace said, ‘a stirring rally.’ 
It comes aout, ‘ a skillfully staged rally.’ ” 

“ Well, wasn’t it? ” inquired Abe, mildly, without 
looking up from the cereal which he was eating with 
apparent relish. “ Saounds tew me like a compliment 
tew you and your ability as a manager.” 

“ 4 Compliment ’ be d — d! It’s a nasty, back- 
handed slap, and you know it, Chief. Here’s another. 
c The Opera Haouse held an audience of four hundred 
noisy Abe Blount supporters.’ He wrote, ‘ Over six 
hundred enthusi —’ ” 

“ Place holds abaout five hundred, for a guess.” 

“ What of it? Every one expects exaggeration by 
the Press, but this is a deliberate, intentional under¬ 
statement. If it had been a Clayton rally I’ll bet my 
shirt that they’d have said, ‘ a madly cheering craowd 
of close tew a thousand of aour most influential men 
and fairest women.’ But what especially gets me is 
that headline. Look at it! ” Fay pointed an accusing 
finger at the heavily leaded print across the entire 
seven columns of the first page. “ Clayton to answer 
State’s Atty. Blount’s sensational charges.” 
“ And this! ” He indicated a boxed item, printed in 
black-faced type, at the top of the story. “ Cong. Clay- 



THE POT BOILS OVER 281 


ton was notified by long distance telephone, late last 
night, of the serious charges which had been publicly 
made against him by his rival for the Republican nomi¬ 
nation, during an evening rally held in the Opera 
House. He stated that he would take the first possible 
train for home, and answer them in the same place 
and at the same hour, to-morrow night. Despite the 
excessive heat, the Congressman has been in Washing¬ 
ton for several days, on matters of vital importance 
to the District.” 

“ Well, at least we succeeded in getting back on tew 
the front page, even if we’ve had tew share it with the 
enemy, John. That’s something. And by this time 
you should have learned tew expect bias on the part 
of the Press.” 

“ I dew — editorially. That’s part of the game. 
But giving an editorial slant tew straight news , isn’t. 
And they’ve done it all through.” 

“ They printed what I said, anyhaow, and it’ll be 
read and copied. I’ve got the message across, in spite 
of ’em, which is all I wanted. The seed is planted. 
Naow the only question is, what kind of fruit will it 
produce — if Clayton doesn’t succeed in digging it all 
up again, and smoothing over the furrows? Come, eat 
your breakfast. It’s time we were hitting the trail.” 

“ I was beginning tew think that you never were 
coming, Abe,” cried Fay, as he met the State’s Attorney 
in the entrance hall outside their office, the next morn¬ 
ing. 

“ I stopped on the way tew interview one of the 
men in durance vile daown at the jail. He’s turned 
State’s evidence, and —what’s up, John? ” Abe had 
become aware that his assistant was pale and almost 
trembling with nervous excitement. 



282 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ What’s up? Look at that! ” 

He pointed into the office, and his chief stopped 
short on the threshold, drove his hands deep into his 
trousers pockets, and gave a long, low whistle. The 
door of the small, old-fashioned safe, which stood in 
the corner behind his desk, had been blown up by some 
explosive, and the floor in front of it was strewn with 
papers and documents. Suddenly his expression 
changed from shocked surprise to growing consterna¬ 
tion, and a second later he was on his knees before the 
safe, hastily picking up and examining the scattered 
papers. 

“ What dew you suppose — ? ” 

Suppose?’ I know! It’s that Fugate affidavit 
-— and they’ve got it ” 

“ No! You mean Clayton’s gang? ” 

“ I don’t guess so. Perhaps some one employed by 
the Rum Ring — of course they know, well enough, 
who my A, B, C and D were; or more likely the boot¬ 
leggers who spilled the beans in the first place. Oh, 
what a fool, what an idiot I was tew leave it hyar! I 
was so plumb tuckered aout, last night, that my what- 
passes-for-a-brain was saound asleep. Like enough 
they were aoutside and watched me put it in hyar. 
Any half-wit might have known that they —” 

“ But supposing they have stolen it, what good’ll it 
dew them? We can get another one.” 

“ That’s not the point. I kept everything, except the 
charge against Clayton, indefinite, on purpose, figuring 
that he wouldn’t dare tew call my hand by demanding 
that I publish the affidavit with all those names in it, 
and so prove that it wasn’t a fake. You see, I was 
baound tew keep Desty Fugate’s name aout of the 
case — at least until after the primaries next Satur¬ 
day when I could look aout for him — for two reasons. 



THE POT BOILS OVER 


283 


I didn’t want the bootleggers tew know who had given 
the information; it might have been any one of at 
least a score of moonshiners in these maountains, prob¬ 
ably; and, besides, he’s my own uncle, and, if Clayton 
should learn that fact, he would naturally insist that it 
was a family frame-up; fraudulent on the face of it.” 

“ But I don’t see haow possession of it is going tew 
help him,” broke in Fay. “ He can’t publish the fact 
that Fugate made the affidavit, withaout it being a con¬ 
fession that he was accessory, at least after the fact, 
tew stealing it. And the Lord knows that there’s evi¬ 
dence enough, hyar, to substantiate your statement that 
it has been stolen.” 

“ You’re wrong there, John. They can put up a hol¬ 
ler that I never did have it, and that this is another 
frame-up tew get rid of a purely imaginary document 
— naow that they know I can’t produce it. Blowing 
the safe would be an obvious way of lending verisimili¬ 
tude tew a statement that it had been stolen, you see. 
We’ve got tew tell the truth, of course, if they make 
the challenge, but it won’t help a bit.” 

“ But there’s Fugate.” 

“ Yes, there’s Desty.” Abe broke off abruptly, and 
his face grew strained. “ There’s Desty — unless — 
I wonder if they’d dare go that far? John, we’ve got 
tew get tew him, at once. And it’s up tew you; I’ve got 
that case on the docket this morning, and can’t get 
away.” 

“ Good Lord, you don’t really think that Malley and 
the others would dew that! ” 

“ Don’t know, but we can’t take a single chance. 
The bootleggers wouldn’t hesitate a minute tew put a 
rifle ball intew a ‘ squealer,’ and that’s what Desty is, 
from their standpoint. If they’re frightened enough 
tew go in for safe-breaking and burglary, they wouldn’t 



284 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


stop at murder. And, if the men higher up are at the 
bottom of this, well, education and position doesn’t 
prevent crime. Self-preservation is the first law of 
nature, still, from top tew bottom of the scale, and it’s 
a safe bet that they know of plenty of gunmen, belong¬ 
ing tew their fraternity, who’d be glad enough tew make 
a little extra on the side, and get a chance tew black¬ 
mail their superiors, as well. We’ve got tew get a new 
affidavit from Desty, and then get him aout of the way, 
P.D.Q., for a while, anyhow. I wish tew heaven he’d 
never made it at all! Hyar—” Abe threw himself 
into his desk chair and hastily wrote a check payable 
to bearer. “ Get this cashed at the bank, on your 
way, and give the money tew him. Tell him that he’s 
plumb got tew go, for my sake as well as his own 
safety. If that doesn’t work — I know his breed; they 
don’t scare worth a whoop, and Preacher Billy’s got 
his primitive soul all stirred up tew making atonement 
for his past sins, as well — tell him that unless he does 
clear aout and stay aout of sight until I can decide what 
tew dew, I’ll have him arrested and jailed. He’d be 
safe in the jug. Poor old Desty! He’s let himself in 
for more trouble anyhaow, sooner or later, by making 
that confession.” 

“ I get you, Chief. I’m off.” 

Fay’s answer was not precisely that of a subordinate, 
but it sufficed. Once again he started for the door on 
the run, and came into violent collision there with 
Billy, just entering. 

“ Billy! I believe you were sent by the gods; the 
very man I need,” welcomed Abe as he recognized his 
startled and somewhat breathless visitor, for the im¬ 
pact of Fay’s charge had been no gentle one. 

“ Mebbe by the Lord, but I sarve only one God,” 
retorted the preacher, sternly. Then his expression 



THE POT BOILS OVER 285 


and voice softened. “ Pm right glad tew see you, Abe, 
and ef I kin holp you, I’d plumb love tew dew hit; 
reckon you knows thet. Is something discommodin’ 
you? You look —” 

His eyes fell upon the wrecked safe and disordered 
papers about it, and he stopped and stiffened slightly. 

His friend explained what had happened, briefly but 
comprehensively, and concluded by saying, “ The first 
thing is tew get a duplicate affidavit from Desty. You 
got the other one and can dew it better than could 
John, hyar. Desty may not remember him and be 
suspicious of a ‘ furriner.’ Then tell Desty —” 

“ Why, ain’t he hyar? ” 

“ Desty Fugate? No. What made you think— ? ” 
“ Hit’s this a-way. I war cornin’ daown tew see you 
abaout thet thar affydavy thing especial, this morning. 
I hain’t seed the newspapers, and I war cornin’ tew tell 
you thet ef you warn’t a-goin’ tew spring hit, I war 
a-fixin’ tew, myself. Hit hain’t the Lord’s will thet 
thet scribe an’ Pharisee, Clayton —” 

“ I know,” broke in Abe, impatiently. “ It’s sprung 
with a vengeance. And the consequences may be a 
whole lot different than we expected unless we can get 
another and ship Desty aout of harm’s way. What 
abaout him, Billy? What made you ask if he wasn’t 
hyar? ” 



CHAPTER VI 


THE PRIMARY ELECTION 

Abe Blount’s unnatural excitement, showing 
through his bearing and words alike, had at last begun 
to affect the mountain preacher as well, and the realiza¬ 
tion that it was somehow associated with the where¬ 
abouts of Desty Fugate had commenced to penetrate 
his slow-working brain and fill it with vague forebod¬ 
ings. Billy’s lean face started to work as it always did 
when the frenzy of exhortation was about to seize him 
at a Preaching; his voice was pitched in a nervously 
high key, as he answered the last question. 

“ Why? Raise I thought tew find him hyar. Hit’s 
this-a way. I drapped off at his place on my way 
daown, tew tell him I war a-comin’ and what fer, and 
Phronie, she said thet he’d started fer Fayville, hisself, 
nigh ontew an haour before — thet you’d sent fer him.” 

“ That 1 had? ” 

“ Thet’s what she said. She said thet a man hed 
cum up thar with a writin’ from you tew Desty, askin’ 
him tew cum daown hyar abaout thet thar affydavy uv 
his’n. Of course Desty, he couldn’t read hit, but the 
furriner read hit fer him. Hain’t hit a fact thet you 
sent fer — ? ” 

“A fact! No. It’s a lie, and — I’m terribly 
afraid— What did the stranger look like? Did 
Aunt Phronie say, Billy? ” 

“ She didn’t see him. Desty hed started for his corn 
patch, kind uv early, she said, and cum back after a 
piece say in’ thet he’d met up with a man who’d give 
286 


THE PRIMARY ELECTION 


287 


him thet message from you. He saddled up and left, 
right smart. Abe, you hain’t supposin’— ? ” 

“No. I’m — sure. My God! ” 

The State’s Attorney dropped back into the chair 
from which he had risen to greet the newcomer, and 
for an instant bent his head and covered his face with 
his hands. When he lifted it again it was gray and 
drawn; his fists clenched until the bony knuckles 
showed through the skin as through white parchment. 
He finally spoke, and his voice was hollow and rasping. 

“ There may be a chance tew save him yet, Billy — 
John. You two go together. Ride up the trail, stop 
at every cabin, ask every one you can find, especially 
the children, if they saw any furriners early this morn¬ 
ing, and get a description of them. As I figure it aout, 
there must have been at least two, for Desty certainly 
didn’t recognize the man who gave him the faked mes¬ 
sage. So there was probably another who knew him 
and pointed him aout, but kept hidden himself. Then 
get Bad Bill Cress; he’s a deputy sheriff and a good 
man-hunter. Have him collect a posse and start a 
search, quick.” 

“ Then you think that it was the bootleggers, Abe? ” 
Fay’s voice trembled a little from excitement and 
misgiving as he asked the question. 

“ Almost certain of it, naow. Everything’s played 
right intew their hands and they’ve been damnably 
clever, too. But I’m tew blame; the whole thing’s my 
fault. If what I’m afraid of has happened, Desty Fu¬ 
gate’s blood is on my head, as much as though I’d shot 
him myself the night that I cut up his still.” 

Abe Blount was not the type to make wild, melo¬ 
dramatic statements; but he was worn out, every nerve 
was on edge, closer to the snapping point than ever 
before in his life; and his heart was wrung with an- 



288 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


guished anticipations. He sagged, physically, as well, 
and sat bowed over, while every few seconds a visible 
tremor passed through his huge body. 

“ I feel like quitting the political fight, to-day — 
naow,” he added. 

“ Don’t you feel like thet, Abe.” 

The preacher stepped quickly to his side and laid an 
awkwardly comforting arm across his friend’s bowed 
shoulders. “ I don’t believe anything’s happened tew 
Desty; you’re jest imaginin’ things. But ef what 
you’re afeered uv air so, he air a victim uv the forces 
uv Iniquity; he’s give his life fer the Cause. He war 
willin’ tew; he felt jest thet-a way abaout hit, Abe. He 
said so. And hit’s up tew you tew keep on fightin’ 
agin ’em.” 

“ That’s right! You’ve got tew carry on.” 

John Fay ranged himself on the other side of his 
chief, and pressed the hand which lay limp on his 
knee. He was eager to be off on the exciting errand, 
but could not leave his friend in such a condition of 
mind. 

Abe pulled himself together with an effort, and even 
forced a wan smile. 

“Yes. Of course we’re going tew carry on; but I 
sure wish it were over. I’m beginning tew feel like the 
woman who had had a bedridden husband on her 
hands for months, and one morning said tew the doctor, 
‘ I dew wish tew goodness that Henry’d git well — or 
something.’ But you see where this leaves us, don’t 
you, if anything has happened tew Desty? We’re 
hanging aout at the end of a limb, with no tree at¬ 
tached tew it; we’re impaled on both horns of a per¬ 
fect dilemma! It’s devilish, the way this is working 
aout. The affidavit’s gone; it looks horribly as though 
the man who made it is gone, too; and the only testi- 



THE PRIMARY ELECTION 


289 


mony that there is, so far at least, implicates me in his 
disappearance. Directly, or indirectly, the opposition 
is sure tew learn this, and that they are safe in chal¬ 
lenging me tew produce one or the other, because who¬ 
ever did this job are just as anxious as the machine is 
tew see me removed from public life — I might as well 
have left aout the word ‘ public/ for I’ve had more than 
one anonymous letter tew that effect. The only ones 
left who actually saw Desty’s confession are you two 
and the folks at Smiling Pass — all my closest friends 
and most ardent supporters. Did any one else know 
abaout it, Billy? ” 

“ Judd Amos, he tuck Desty’s oath, but he didn’t 
read the paper. The only other one thet knew abaout 
hit was Noey.” 

“ Noey Fugate! ” 

“ Thet’s right. He war hoppin’ mad abaout hit, too. 
Told his paw thet he war crazy tew make hit. They 
hed an awful quarrel, but Desty seen his duty an’ done 
hit, even though his boy allaowed thet he’d never speak 
tew him again. Noey cum and threatened me, too, and 
he said —” 

Billy stopped in evident dismay. 

“ Go on! ” commanded Abe. 

“ Well, he war plumb aout uv his mind with anger, 
and he said thet if any harm cum tew his paw through 
your usin’ thet writin’, he’d — he’d —” 

“ Never mind the rest, Billy. I can guess; and I 
don’t blame him, much. What a fool I’ve been. Well, 
the milk’s spilt, and I’ve got tew forget it, if I can — 
only I can’t — and go on waging a political campaign 
and trying criminal cases. It’s past time I was in 
court, naow — and you two on the trail.” 

That night Abe Blount did not retire until long after 



290 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


twelve, and his eyes had not closed when the first gray 
light of approaching dawn served as an excuse for him 
to get up, dress and seek the open air. For many rest¬ 
less companions had shared his bed with him, and 
made sleep impossible. Over and over again he had 
visioned the event which had almost certainly under¬ 
lain the meager report that Fay had made, on return¬ 
ing home that evening. Billy and he had found Desty 
Fugate, his neck broken, lying dead in a deep gully 
beside a horse with two broken legs. Well Abe knew 
the spot, a wild and lonesome place with no human 
habitations within half a mile of it in either direction. 
There the narrow road, hardly wide enough for a 
broad-bodied jolt wagon to pass, unless its wheels were 
securely held in the deep ruts, climbed up from the 
creek valley and wound around a wooded spur of the 
mountain on a natural shelf. From its outer, unpro¬ 
tected, edge there was an almost sheer drop of a hun¬ 
dred feet to the bowlder-filled bed of the stream, now 
burnt by the midsummer sun to little more than a 
trickle. 

It had been so simple, and was so plain. One mur¬ 
derer had hastened ahead, and concealed himself in the 
bushes on the farther side of the bend. The other, 
riding with Desty, had naturally dropped a short dis¬ 
tance behind, leaving the victim, unsuspecting, to round 
the curve first. A shout; a stone flung, or a blow from 
a heavy stick. The startled horse had swerved — was 
over the edge. The murderers, having satisfied them¬ 
selves that their work was accomplished, had ridden 
away, leaving nothing to indicate that there had been 
foul play. Any coroner’s jury in the land would neces¬ 
sarily bring in a verdict of accidental death. There 
were no physical clews of an assault. The hard-baked 
roadbed, filled with hoof prints, would yield no evi- 



THE PRIMARY ELECTION 


291 


dence. True, strangers had been seen passing along 
the road, coming and going; but no one had taken any 
particular notice of them; “ furriners ” had ceased to 
be a novelty since the establishment of Smiling Pass, 
the door through which civilization was slowly entering 
those mountain fastnesses. It had been murder, Abe 
had felt certain of that; but “ by person or persons un¬ 
known,” and probably ever to remain unknown. That 
had been a thought black enough, in all conscience; but 
a blacker one had been bred of it in the dark hours of 
the sleepless night. He felt that he had inadvertently 
placed the weapon in the assassin’s hands and pointed 
out the victim to them. 

Another tragic vision had dwelt with him — Aunt 
Phronie, widowed and broken-hearted, for, although, 
since Desty had stopped moonshining, he had eaten 
more than he had earned, he had been her mate. And 
she had loved him in her pathetic, silent way. Of 
course he would make such reparation as he could, by 
assisting in the support of the family; but that would 
not bring Desty back to her. Then there had been 
distressed thoughts of Noah. Abe had never felt physi¬ 
cal fear, even in the midnight hours; yet Noah was to 
be both sympathized and reckoned with. The boy had 
already twice threatened to “ get ” him; now ftesh fuel 
would be added to the flames of his bitter hatred — 
and, as though all these things were not enough, jeal¬ 
ousy, none the less real for being without foundation, 
had filled his mind with unreasoning, revengeful hos¬ 
tility. 

Poor Omie! Abe knew that she, too, would be pass¬ 
ing a night of sleeplessness and suffering on his ac¬ 
count, bearing his new burden in her young heart. 
What a loyal little friend she was! John Fay had seen 
her; had told him how white she had grown when the 



292 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


tragic news had been disclosed, how terribly she had 
felt over it, on account of the Fugates, but even more 
on account of him. What was it tha,t the younger man 
had added, in a swiftly altered voice? “ Why, she’s a 
beauty; abaout the sweetest thing I ever laid eyes on, 
Abe. And you’d almost swear that she had been raised 
and educated in the city. Why haven’t I known her 
before? You bet I’m going up there again . . . under 
different circumstances.” 

At this recollection Abe had caught himself uncon¬ 
sciously uttering an audible breath not far removed 
from a groan. But, he asked himself the next instant, 
why should not Fay visit the girl, fall in love with her, 
marry her? Why should he be trying to banish the 
thought as something irritating, hostile to his own hap¬ 
piness? John was young, manly, good-looking, able, 
clean and loyal-hearted — there was no stigma on his 
name. If Omie should learn to love him, he would 
make her as good a husband as woman could wish. 
He ought to hope for such a consummation; they were 
both so friendly and loyal to him! Why, then, should 
he feel as he did about it. She was his chum, nothing 
more; nor could she ever be anything more, even if his 
present love for her should, unexpectedly, be fanned by 
the wind which they had discussed and changed from 
Platonic glow to passionate flame. If that ever should 
happen, the flame would have to burn inwardly, even if 
it consumed him. He would never marry Omie, or any 
other woman. Mating was not for him. Yet, the nega¬ 
tion had brought in its train a new and unaccustomed 
longing for the very thing which, in the abstract, he 
had denied himself, forever. In an hour of trial to 
the soul, such as the present one, how much a woman’s 
boundless love might mean to a man; how comforting 
the embrace of a wife might be? 



THE PRIMARY ELECTION 


293 


Tossing restlessly upon his bed, he had tried to quiet 
himself by imagining how it would feel to have a wife’s 
warm, tender arms about him, soothing and strengthen¬ 
ing, and he had been startled, even shocked, upon real¬ 
izing that memory had harked back, and that he was 
actually endeavoring to recall the sensation of real 
arms which held him close, a real body — slim, vital, 
clinging — pressed against his own — Omie, as she had 
clung to him on the night of the tempest. He had put 
the thought deliberately from his mind, although not 
without an effort, and become impersonal again. Even 
though he had felt no impassioned desire for a mate, 
the persistent longing for children, especially for a son, 
had become acute. It had been the child, rather than 
the woman, in Omie which had first attracted him to 
her, for his love for children came from the very core 
of his heart. And that poignant longing he knew could 
never be gratified. Fate had set him apart from these 
blessings; predestined him for a life alone. Well, such 
a life might have its compensations, although at the 
moment it was difficult to see wherein they lay. 

But now morning had come. To be sure, the sun¬ 
shine did not make the fact of Desty’s tragic death look 
any brighter; but it was a shade less personally grim, 
and the black fancies had fled. The world was a work- 
a-day world again; there were tasks to be performed, 
and there is no better palliative for the troubled heart 
and worried mind than hard work. Abe had fully re¬ 
gained control of his will-power, which had been badly 
shaken for a time. The recollection of the tragic event 
of yesterday still rankled deeply in his heart; but his 
courage and determination had flowed back and he was 
ready, with accustomed equanimity, to face whatever 
the immediate future might hold in store for him. This 



294 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


was fortunate, for the tide of fortune, on the flow of 
which he had for a time traveled fast and far, had not 
reached its full ebb even yet; he had not yet reached 
the bottom of the trough which followed the wave of 
popularity. 

The mid-morning train brought the daily papers from 
Culverton City, and Abe and his assistant read them 
together, during the noon recess in the case which they 
were trying. No mention appeared of the theft of the 
affidavit or its maker’s death. The report had not yet 
been given to the public, for, although Abe had already 
set detectives to work in an apparently hopeless en¬ 
deavor to trace the men who had committed the double 
crime, he had decided that there was nothing to be 
gained by giving out the story. Politically, it would be 
better to wait a day and see how the cat was going to 
jump. 

But other news affecting him there was, with a ven¬ 
geance. It fairly shrieked from the front page of the 
newspaper, and its echo sounded from the editorial 
sheet. Clayton had made his promised reply, and it 
was all that Abe had anticipated — and infinitely more! 
According to the enthusiastic editorial comment upon 
it, Honorable H. Clay Clayton had risen to the great¬ 
est heights of eloquence of his whole distinguished 
career; it was a complete and stirring vindication. 
Even in cold black and white, the speech, printed in 
full, furnished a basis for such a conclusion, as Abe 
was forced to admit to himself. The expected sweep¬ 
ing denial of every charge which had been falsely made 
against him was there. The incensed demand for a full 
retraction, or the publication of the libelous document, 
together with the production of the man who had signed 
it, was there. The challenge to the authenticity of the 
affidavit was there. The statement that the speaker’s 



THE PRIMARY ELECTION 295 


lawyers would, as soon as possible, enter suit against 
the State’s Attorney for defamation of character and 
malicious slander* was there. But that was only part. 
Clayton had eloquently spread his public record and 
his private life before his auditors, and challenged any 
honest man to find a flaw in either. He had declared, 
passionately, that never, prior to the unlicensed and 
licentious attack, made by his opponent, had the sug¬ 
gestion of a slur been cast upon them. It was. a stir¬ 
ring appeal for justice. Abe knew that it was predi¬ 
cated upon falsehood, that it was counterfeit coin, yet 
it seemed to ring true and he realized that it could not 
have but carried conviction. Whether the statements 
were fair or false, they had obviously come from a 
man who was stirred as he had never been stirred in 
his life, and they were strong. He had spoken wholly 
without notes, and with such fire and fervor that the 
audience had gone wild, the paper said. He had not 
even touched on politics or the campaign; there had 
been no need. The speech carried its own implication, 
and was all the stronger because of the omission. 

When the two had read it from start to finish, John 
Fay was raging, and Abe was very sober. 

The mid-afternoon train — second, and last for the 
day, into Fayville — brought not one, but half a dozen 
reporters, some of them from points as far distant as 
the Capital City of the state. They descended upon 
the office of the State’s Attorney like a well-trained, but 
excited, pack of bloodhounds that had run their quarry 
to earth. They yelped out question after question. 
Had he a statement? What answer was he going to 
make? Where was the affidavit? Who executed it? 

Abe knew some of them personally. He understood 
and liked newspaper men, as a class, and welcomed 
them all with quiet, unassumed friendliness. The cigar 




296 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


box was brought out, and when each had found a seat, 
on the two extra chairs, the corners of the desk, the 
window sills, and the air was beginning to turn blue 
with tobacco smoke, he leaned back and addressed 
them in ordinary tones. 

“ Boys, you’re not going tew get just the story that 
you came for — I wish tew heaven you were! But 
what you dew get will be straight goods, and it will be 
news, although I don’t expect to see it in print; at 
least, not in the form that I’m going tew give it to you, 
and probably not in the form that some of you’ll write 
it. All the same I’ve always played fair with you fel¬ 
lows, and ‘ come across ’ when I could; you know that. 
And I’m going tew give you facts! I’ve always had 
some little reputation for honesty in the past — not 
that that’s anything tew be praoud of, although its an¬ 
tithesis would be something tew be ashamed of — and 
I still want tew be classed with ‘ Honest Abe ’ in this 
one respect. I believe — I know — that every word I 
said abaout Clayton is true. And naow I can’t back 
up a single one of them.” 

Whistles and exclamations of surprise broke in on 
him, and the rapid-fire questioning was renewed. He 
waited until they had spent themselves, and continued, 
calmly, telling the whole story without reservation. 

He concluded by saying, “ That’s the truth, the 
whole truth and nothing but the truth, boys; but I 
know as well as any of you dew haow easily it can be 
twisted aout of shape, and the facts given an utterly 
different implication. What’s more, I expect it tew 
happen. Orders are orders; and politics, politics.” 

“ You’re right, Abe; worse luck. But, whatever 
happens, you can caount on at least one vote from 
yours truly,” cried one of his inquisitors, and five oth- 



THE PRIMARY ELECTION 


297 


ers said, “ The same hyar! ” somebody adding, “ Let’s 
make aour motto, ‘ Vote early and often.’ ” 

Abe smiled, wearily. 

“ That’s mighty good, and encouraging, of you, and 
I can dew with a bit of encouragement, to-day. God 
knows I don’t want tew set up a haowl — I’m not 
licked, yet; but I can’t help feeling a good deal as 
though Fate had got me temporarily backed intew a 
corner and has been handing me some pretty stiff 
right and left jolts the last few days. Oh, well, it’s all 
part of the game, I reckon, even if the rules are a bit 
blind tew us poor mortals.” His grin took the “ preach¬ 
ing ” out of the words. “ If you-all are going tew make 
the last train out of this magnificent metropolis, you’ll 
have tew be stretching your legs right smart.” 

“ That (highly adjectived) re-write editor could 
make white look black, green, pink, or any other color, 
tew suit the taste of the Paowers that Be! ” disgustedly 
announced one of the six the next morning, as he read, 
not what he had written, but what was printed in his 
paper concerning the stolen affidavit. And the other 
five might, with propriety, have said, “ Amen.” The 
story was there, but so was the plain hint that under 
the circumstances it was, to put it mildly, a most 
amazing one. 

On the afternoon when Abe Blount had first an¬ 
nounced his candidacy to his friends at Smiling Pass, 
Omie had begged for and received laughing permission 
to come to his office in Fayville on the day of the Pri¬ 
mary Election, so that she might get the returns and 
hear the news of his victory as soon as he did himself. 
She had not forgotten the plan, and, although, when she 
broached the matter to Virgil, he had tried to dissuade 



298 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


her from carrying it out, she had once more silenced 
his objections, protesting with a subdued little laugh, 
“ Oh, Virge, that’s what you said the day that I wanted 
tew go daown there and hear Abe try his first case as 
State’s Attorney — against poor Desty Fugate.” Her 
voice caught, momentarily. “ But you took me, like a 
dear, and everything came aout all right. He won, 
then, and he’s going to win, to-morrow. You might as 
well agree tew take me, if you want any peace of mind, 
for I’m going, whether you dew or not.” 

For some weeks it had been a much changed and 
strangely quiet Omie, but here was a flash of her old- 
time, determined spirit, and Virgil yielded again. 

Abe had wholly forgotten about the arrangement, 
and his surprise was as great as his pleasure when the 
brother and sister rode up towards noon on election day. 
He and John Fay simultaneously caught sight of them 
through the office window, and simultaneously sprang 
to their feet to go and meet them; but the latter was 
nearer the door and won the race. His muscular arms 
reached up and half lifted, half swung the girl from 
the saddle, and a quick pain stabbed through the older 
man’s heart. Omie, flushed and smiling, in the arms of 
another! It was only for the barest moment; but the 
picture disturbed him more than he would have thought 
was possible, even though he told himself that it was 
not jealousy. That would be too absurd. The next in¬ 
stant the faint shadow had passed to Fay’s boyish coun¬ 
tenance, and it grew somewhat deeper as he observed 
how eagerly Abe caught the girl’s two hands in his, 
and how long he held them, while the color mounted 
more richly to her temples. 

“ Oh, Abe. Quick. Tell me haow the election’s 
going! ” she cried. 

“ Haven’t the gift of second sight, like Aunt Lissy, 



THE PRIMARY ELECTION 


299 


so I can’t. The polls don’t close until four o’clock, 
and of course no returns have come in yet. I might 
give a pretty good guess; but — I guess I won’t.” 

“ Abe! ” She caught hold of his sleeve and her voice 
was imploring. “ You don’t really mean that you’re 
afraid — ? ” 

For the first time in several days the man laughed 
naturally. The period of nerve-racking struggle and 
anxious planning was ended, and the outcome was on 
the laps of the gods. He was relaxing, letting down. 

“ Afraid? Not a bit of it; especially with you hyar 
tew keep my spirits up. No, I’m not a afraid; I’m 
reconciled. For the guess that I wouldn’t make, a 
second ago, is that, unless a miracle happens, I’m in 
for the finest licking of my career, to-day, and then 
hurray for private life, as soon as my present term ex¬ 
pires, and a home on the maountain-side.” 

This last suggestion robbed the blow of a little of 
its force, and the girl’s lips smiled, tremulously, al¬ 
though her violet-blue eyes grew luminous with a film 
of disappointed tears. 

“ Oh, of course you’re joking,” she answered, incred¬ 
ulously. 

“ Sure. You’ve commented on that habit of mine, 
before. But it’s ‘ a true word spoken in jest,’ just the 
same. I’m making light of a serious matter; the loss of 
the expected 1 Honorable ’ before my distinguished 
name, a seat in the Haouse of Representatives at Wash¬ 
ington— and, incidentally, seventy-five hundred a 
year, with perquisites. I shall probably never know 
what those are, naow,” he added, with feigned lugubri¬ 
ousness. 

“ I don’t believe that you’re going tew lose,” she 
answered, staunchly, and the words and tone alike 
brought a happy glow to his heart. Then she turned 




300 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


to his assistant and demanded, “ He isn’t, is he, Mr. 
Fay? ” 

“ Not if you say he won’t. The Fates couldn’t be so 
hard-hearted as to make you aout in error. Why, I’d 
be willing tew risk my last cent betting your way, 
naow.” 

“Naow!”’ she echoed, beginning to look bewil¬ 
dered. “ Then you were really thinking — Oh, I 
won’t believe it. Please don’t lose, Abe! There, that’s 
idiotic and childish.” Omie hastily brushed a vagrant 
tear from her cheek. “ Tell me exactly haow things 
stand.” 

“ All right, I will in as far as I can; it won’t be the 
first time that you’ve had tew face facts, my child. 
But ‘ come intew my parlor,’ as the spider said. I’ve 
got tew be within reach of the telephone, for John has 
a newspaper friend in Culverton City who’s calling us 
up with the latest news, abaout every fifteen minutes. 
Speaking of the devil, there goes the bell, naow.” 

He led the way back into the office and, after a brief 
conversation over the wire, turned to them and said, 
with a grin, “ Macey regrets tew report, again. Word 
is coming in from all the taowns that the biggest 
primary election vote in history is being cast, which of 
course means that the machine is well-oiled and work¬ 
ing smoothly. Moreover, the cyards are nicely stacked 
against us, apparently. Every telegraph pole and even 
the voting booths in Culverton City blossomed aout, 
overnight, with poster pictures of aour friend Clayton 
and his campaign banners. One of aour ardent sup¬ 
porters protested against their presence within a hun¬ 
dred feet of a booth — of course that’s absolutely con¬ 
trary tew the corrupt practice act — finally started 
tew tear them daown, himself, and is naow in the hos¬ 
pital being fixed up with plaster, ‘ not of Paris, like a 



THE PRIMARY ELECTION 301 


fine Italian toy, but the kind the doctor uses when the 
cuts and bumps and bruises overcome a little regular 
live boy/ ” he chanted, almost gayly. “ In another pre¬ 
cinct both inspectors are already gloriously drunk, and 
have chased aour watcher off the field. Aside from 
that everything’s fine.” 

Fay boiled over. 

“The old stuff! It’s absolutely illegal, as well as 
rotten. Well, it’ll give you graounds for contesting the 
election, anyhaow.” 

“ Yes, if we decide that it’s worth while. But, be¬ 
fore debating that point, let’s wait until the votes are 
caounted and see haow close the figures are.” Turning 
to Omie and Virgil, he continued, “ That’s merely a 
sample. Friends have brought word that the same sort 
of thing is going on, even in aour own maountain dis¬ 
tricts. The enemy has got aout-posts stationed at 
every booth, and most of the men voters are being way¬ 
laid with a wink and drink, before they are permitted 
tew enter and register their unbiased preference for the 
Congressional candidate. Oh, well. Let’s go tew 
lunch, over at the famous eating haouse which I told 
you abaout, a year ago. Reckon that I might as well 
order soft poached eggs on milk toast myself, naow.” 

During the simple meal that followed, and the whole 
afternoon, Abe was apparently in the highest of spirits, 
and joked and told humorous stories so continuously 
that the others could not be other than merry, super¬ 
ficially, at least. His manner was infectious, even 
though they sensed the fact that his levity was partly 
artificial, and partly the result of the inevitable reac¬ 
tion from the strain which he had been undergoing 
and his grief over the recent tragedy. 

Once Omie found herself rebelling against it, even a 
little shocked, and she remonstrated with him in a low- 



302 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


voiced aside. “ Oh, Abe, haow can you joke like that, 
when everything seems tew be going as wrong as possi¬ 
ble? ” 

Serious, and almost tender for the moment, he 
pressed the hand which she had laid protestingly on 
his knee, as he answered softly, “ Have you forgotten? 

4 Es fer Trouble, you won’t mind hit half so much ef 
you jest smile.’ ” 

Suddenly understanding, she returned the pressure, 
and beamed at him through a mist of tears. 

About mid-afternoon a mountaineer brought in the 
report from the first precinct where every registered 
vote had been cast and counted — one of their own ap¬ 
parent strongholds. The messenger also had a tale to 
tell about free moonshine and freer propaganda which 
had there been dissipated against the destroyer of stills 
and prosecutor of his own friends and blood rela¬ 
tions. 

Abe read aloud from the slip the scrawled figures, 
“ Blount, 13 , Clayton, 23 ,” and laughed, although this 
time not quite naturally. 

“ The numbers are prophetic, children,” he said. 
“And they both apply tew yours truly, in this case. 
Even 4 mine own familiar friends ’ have turned against 
me. As Horatio remarked at the close of the play, 

4 Good night, sweet Prince ’— that’s me — 4 and flights 
of angels sing you tew your rest.’ Will you be a flight 
of angels, to-night, Omie, and sing me tew sleep? ” 

44 Oh, Abe, will you come home with us? ” 

44 I’m thinking some of it; I’d like tew get away and 
sleep for a week.” 

44 Dew. At least dew come. I want you tew. Of 
course we could put you up, but perhaps you’d rather 
stay in your own new home. Yes, it’s really finished, 
and I had Virge put a cot bed in it, and I — the girls 



THE PRIMARY ELECTION 


303 


have woven a ‘ kivverlid ’ so that it would be ready 
in case you should come up unexpectedly, some time.” 

Eagerness for the moment conquered the bitter dis¬ 
appointment in the girl’s heart and voice, and John Fay 
looked glum again. 

“ Why, Omie. That saounds almost tew good tew 
be true. You bet I’ll come.” 

Six hours had passed. Once more the man and girl 
were for a moment alone on the veranda at Smiling 
Pass, leaning against the railing in the warm darkness, 
for the new moon was not due until the morrow. There 
was no breeze, and the night stillness was complete, 
save for the faintest murmur from the diminished 
creek, and the ceaseless sounds of the insect myriads. 
They had left Fayville before the final reports were 
all in; but even Omie, who had hoped against hope 
until the end, had been convinced that Abe had been 
defeated by at least two to one. 

Now the pendulum had swung back again, bringing 
another reaction. Even the man had fallen silent, and 
both were heavy-hearted with disappointment. Their 
hopes, a few short weeks before so buoyant, had been 
beaten down and crushed to bits. 

For some moments neither had spoken. Then the 
girl drew a deep quivering breath and, on impulse, Abe 
reached out his hand, both to give and find comfort by 
clasping hers. He touched her cool, bare arm, in the 
darkness, and slid his hand caressingly downward, 
seeking her fingers. His hand closed upon them, and 
the girl started. It might have meant nothing —or 
everything, and she was suddenly in a panic. The 
feminine instinct to postpone surrender — to flee — set 
her heart to throbbing painfully. She was afraid; of 
him; of herself. 



304 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Oh, don’t! ” she cried, snatching her hand away 
and pressing it to her breast. 

The next instant memory played one of its queer 
tricks, and there rushed to her mind the morning of 
their first meeting, and her own vexed thought, “ He’s 
just been making fun of me, but I’ll get even with him, 
some day. I’ll make him suffer.” Somehow she knew 
that he was hurt, was suffering, now, and she was to 
blame. Her heart burned with bitter remorse, but still 
she could not force herself to retract the word and ac¬ 
tion, for that might call for explanation. And an in¬ 
stant later the opportunity to do so was gone. Virgil 
had joined them. That night Omie slept none at all, 
and her pillow was wet with tears. Nor did Abe sleep 
much better, for he had not understood, nor yet read, 
the message which Omie’s “ kivverlid ” carried woven 
in its linen threads, fashioned into the true lover’s knot 
pattern. 



CHAPTER VII 


DESTINY 

The Twelfth Congressional District of the State of 
Cumberland held a population of something over 
two hundred thousand, but so many of these were 
mountain dwellers, and either illiterate or unregistered, 
that its normal voting strength was less than fifteen 
per cent. In a regular election the Democratic Party 
usually mustered about nine thousand votes, the Re¬ 
publican Party some fourteen thousand, and the Peo¬ 
ple’s Party a negligible number. In the Primary elec¬ 
tion the Democrats had no contest and nominated a 
rather colorless candidate with a vote of 5 , 092 ; the 
People’s Independent Party put its full slate in the 
field, headed by Tom Lemos as candidate for Congress, 
with a registered count of 4 , 967 ; the Republican Party, 
however, cast the largest vote on record, exceeding 
that for Governor at the previous election. Clayton 
polled 10,423 and Blount 4 , 116 , surprise being ex¬ 
pressed by the newspapers that the latter vote should 
have been so large, considering the popularity of his 
opponent. The Press also commented favorably, the 
following day, on the sportsmanship shown in defeat by 
the State’s Attorney. The Fourth Estate had done its 
duty, carried out orders and accomplished its end, and 
now saw no reason for going further and “ rubbing it 
in.” Anglo Saxons love a good loser, and Abe Blount 
had proved himself to be such. 

When he had gone to Smiling Pass he had fully in¬ 
tended to remain there over Sunday, at least; but he 
changed his mind during the restless night and returned 
305 


306 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


to Fayville early the next morning. From his office 
he had telephoned his brief statement to Macey in Cul- 
verton City, who cheerfully agreed to give it out to the 
other papers. 

“ The Republicans of this District have spoken,” 
said Abe. “ And in a voice sufficiently laoud so that 
I had no difficulty in hearing their verdict. The Ameri¬ 
can way is to bow to the will of the majority, and I 
believe that Party principles still transcend personal 
variances. I shall not only vote the straight ticket in 
November, and urge all of my loyal friends tew dew 
the same, but shall continue tew work for the Party, 
especially in the maountain regions where my appeal 
may carry the most weight and where it is most 
needed.” 

He went on to reiterate his oft-made statement that 
the anarchistic party held a grave menace, and pointed 
out that the four thousand votes cast by it in the 
primaries, far from indicating weakness, showed sur¬ 
prising strength. That Lemos could already have lined 
up and registered so many held a serious threat. He 
had three months more in which to build or* this sub¬ 
stantial foundation, and, unless the danger were made 
clear, many voters might desert the older parties, under 
the urge of political unrest, and rally to the banners 
of the new one as a protest. In the regular election, 
where the ballot was secret, they would not have to 
state their party affiliations, as they had in the pri¬ 
maries. 

For a while politics passed from the front page of 
the newspapers. The voters, always quick to forget 
what happened during the heat of the campaign, and 
more concerned for the time with their own private 
affairs, went on their customary ways, and few so much 
as recalled Congressman Clayton’s threat to bring suit 



DESTINY 


307 


for slander againt his erstwhile opponent, or com¬ 
mented on the fact that it had not been entered. In¬ 
deed, it never was. Under all the circumstances Abe 
was not likely to challenge Clayton to proceed with it, 
even though he realized that the other’s lack of action 
was probably the result of fear that he might be able, 
after all, to substantiate the truth of his charges. And 
the State’s Attorney, while chafing under the implica¬ 
tion of having broadcast a malicious lie, preferred to 
suffer the injury in silence rather than do anything 
which might further weaken the Party at a time which 
he considered critical. For the moment the issue was 
Law and Order, rather than machine rule. The mills 
of the gods grind slowly, and the old conflict with the 
Malley crowd could be revived and fought to a finish, 
when the more immediate and menacing threat had 
been laid. Dago Lemos kept the matter alive in his 
fiery speeches to miners and mountaineers, to be sure, 
coining political capjtal of it and challenging the State’s 
Attorney to make good his charges and prosecute the 
Republican candidate for Congress, but, needless to 
say, no word thereof appeared in the Press. 

All this Abe had to explain, patiently and painstak¬ 
ingly, to Preacher Billy, who, a week after the prima¬ 
ries, rode down for the express purpose of taking issue 
with his position. 

“ If there is no choice except between two evils, we 
ought tew choose the lesser,” he said. u It isn’t that 
I love Clayton more, but the things for which Lemos 
and his gang stand for, less. There lies a grave danger, 
backed by a fast-growing element in this District, and 
we’ve got tew defeat it with whatever weapons we have 
at hand, even weak and perhaps crooked ones. I 
didn’t, myself, realize quite haow petty Clayton is, 
until yesterday, when it came tew me straight that he 



308 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


has repeatedly declared that he doesn’t want my of¬ 
fered help, and would rather be beaten than elected by 
my aid. Isn’t that childish? ” 

“ By the same token you air a man , Abe Blount,” 
Billy answered. “ But this time I kain’t agree with 
you, jest the same. You don’t ketch me votin’ fer thet 
feisty Clayton.” 

So, without special incident, passed the melting 
weeks of August, September, with its burning days but 
more bearable nights, and October, most glorious of 
months, especially in the mountains. Abe Blount con¬ 
tinued to devote himself to the efficient performance of 
his official duties, and, although there was no beating 
of drums and blare of trumpets connected with the 
work, in one or two cases he accomplished the note¬ 
worthy in a degree sufficient to gain notice and com¬ 
mendation from the Press, once more. He also kept 
his word and became a free lance campaigner for the 
Republican Party and the cause of Law and Order at 
the coming election, addressing gatherings of his own, 
mountain people wherever he found them, and accept¬ 
ing a few invitations to visit small towns near-by, and 
speak to church assemblages. And again, wherever he 
spoke, he made converts to the cause and friends for 
himself. Even many who had voted against him and, 
under the influence of Clayton propaganda, felt bitter 
hostility towards “ that political upstart,” now forgave, 
and said to one another, “ He was badly advised. It 
was a great mistake for him tew run against such 
a splendid man as Congressman Clayton; but then, 
we all make mistakes. Tew err is human, you 
know.” 

Yet, exceedingly busy as he was, he found time fre¬ 
quently to visit Smiling Pass and enjoy a few hours of 
rest and relaxation in his own little cottage, which he 



DESTINY 


309 


had furnished sparely, but with enough for his simple 
needs. The spot had already grown into his affections 
as really “ home ” ; he loved it and the restful, pictur¬ 
esque view up and down the creek that curved around 
the knoll on which it stood within the pleasant shade 
of its sycamore tree — a veritable giant. He found a 
quiet pleasure in Omie’s companionship, as well; for 
the two had tacitly reestablished their friendship, al¬ 
though on a less intimate basis than before. 

Omie was no longer the child of yesterday. She had 
suffered. She still grieved in secret, but she now felt 
intuitively, that the great love which she bore for Abe 
Blount was not reciprocated; it was a hopeless passion 
and must be carefully concealed from him and the 
world; but the pain of it was tempered by the very 
joy of loving. The lesson which she was learning in 
conquering impulse was a bitter one; but it was daily 
strengthening her moral fibre. Some of the fresh bloom 
of youth had vanished from her cheeks, and her ex¬ 
pression had become less merry and childlike, and was 
often almost pathetic, despite herself, but something — 
a new depth of character — had been added, especially 
in her wonderful eyes. 

Abe recognized the change in her, although utterly 
ignorant of the reason for it, and, while he missed the 
old frank camaraderie, he appreciated the new depth. 
They were the best of friends. They talked and read 
and jested together; but they never touched hands. 
The memory of that one unhappy evening was reared 
like a tangible wall between them. 

On one of his brief week-end trips to Smiling Pass, 
late in October, Abe found the girl more like her old 
self than he had seen her for many weeks. She greeted 
him with shining eyes and eager enthusiasm, crying, 
“ Oh, Abe. What dew you think? ” 



310 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ I don’t/’ he interrupted, promptly. “ I’m on a two 
days’ vacation.” 

“ Well, at least you might listen. 1 Smiles/ Donald 
and little Junie are coming hyar next week. They’re 
in Washington, and of course couldn’t go home without 
running up tew see haow the work which they fathered 
and mothered is getting along. Please promise that 
you’ll come up! Why, it doesn’t seem possible that 
you’ve never even seen aour 1 Smiles.’ ” 

“ ‘ Come ’? You bet I will. Just send me word when 
they arrive, and I’ll come a-kiting. My education 
won’t be complete until I’ve met the famous Mrs. 
c Smiles ’ McDonald.” 

“ Naow you’re joking, again,” she pouted. “ But I 
don’t care. It’s another true word spoken in jest. 
Wait and see if I’m not right.” 

Some weeks prior to this the fire had been rekindled 
beneath the political pot and the stew was simmering 
again. Congressman Clayton had been called back into 
the limelight to wage an active campaign, primarily 
against the Democratic candidate for his seat, since all 
signs pointed to a strongly democratic year, and, even 
in a nominally Republican District, it was safe to take 
nothing for granted. He personally refused to con¬ 
sider seriously the anarchistic, People’s Independent 
Party bugaboo, as he termed it, chiefly because Abe 
Blount had been responsible for directing public atten¬ 
tion to it; but other, and more far-seeing politicians, 
had sometime since begun to be disturbed over the ac¬ 
tivities of “ Dago ” Lemos, and realized that the threat 
from that quarter was not to be lightly dismissed. The 
number of new voters who were daily being registered 
in the mine and mountain localities furnished them 
food for thought, and the crowd of sensation-seekers 



DESTINY 


311 


that flocked to hear the fiery orator, when he actually 
invaded Culverton City itself, gave them further 
pause. 

The result of all this was that Clayton’s managers 
insisted that he do something which he had not been 
called upon to do for many years; to make an inten¬ 
sive swing about the circle during the final week of the 
campaign, speaking at least twice daily. Moreover, 
they had decided that even the mountain regions must 
not be slighted, and had scheduled a widely advertised 
rally for the evening of the second of November at the 
schoolhouse at Bears Mouth Creek, a location which 
was fairly central and accessible to a large number of 
voters who lived in scattered cabins between Fayville 
and Smiling Pass, on Rattlesnake, Fox Trot and other 
tributary streams. Jonathan’s Jonathan, Justice of 
the Peace and leading local man of affairs, was to dine 
and introduce the candidate. 

After some hesitation, Abe Blount had decided to at¬ 
tend this rally, thereby setting the example and giving 
evidence of the sincerity of his pledge that, for the time 
being, the Party took precedence over personal antip¬ 
athies. 

He arrived rather late, to find the schoolhouse 
jammed to the door and many waiting on the outside. 
These set up a cheer and greeted him with good-na¬ 
tured raillery, when they saw his tall form through the 
deepening dusk, and, hearing the name of his late rival, 
Clayton, inside the building, broke suddenly off in the 
middle of a sentence addressed to the presiding officer, 
flushed and bit his lip with annoyance. Abe succeeded 
in worming his way into the crowded room and down 
the side aisle towards the platform, intending to offer 
his hand to the candidate, but the latter observed his 
approach and so pointedly turned his back on him that 




312 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


the State’s Attorney checked his slow progress 
abruptly. 

His eyes then caught sight of one woman upon the 
stage — Marion Clayton, dressed in a stylish riding 
habit with divided skirt, which had earlier caused con¬ 
siderable adverse comment from the ‘womenfolk of 
Bears Mouth Creek, when she had first appeared in it, 
riding astride. In imitation of her father she pointedly 
ignored the slight bow which he made her, averting her 
eyes; but, whereas the Congressman’s flushed coun¬ 
tenance had turned a deeper hue, her beautiful face 
grew a little pale. Both chagrined and angry at this 
studied rebuff, Abe retraced his steps and took up a 
position leaning against the wall at the rear of the 
room. 

Following Jonathan’s fairly creditable introduction 
— creditable considering the fact that he had been far 
from abstemious during dinner — Clayton stepped to 
the edge of the platform and stood, handsome and dis¬ 
tinguished in appearance and faultlessly dressed, facing 
his strange, roughly clad audience. He graciously ac¬ 
knowledged the rather uncertain applause, started by 
his late rival, and began to speak, at first in a rather 
perfunctory manner. But, under the spell of his own 
voice, the veteran politician soon warmed up to the 
type of flowery eloquence for which he was famous. 
His voice took on an impassioned depth and his face 
grew still more flushed from the blood set coursing by 
the physical exertion of his gesturings. 

Suddenly there came a break in the middle of a 
rhetorical sentence. An expression of momentary 
agony appeared on his countenance, he pressed his hand 
to his rotund waist and then passed it over his moist 
brow. Smiling, a trifle weakly, he excused himself with 
the words, “ Just a touch of indigestion, I reckon. 



DESTINY 


313 


Friend Jonathan’s dinner was too baountiful. As I 
was saying ...” 

Came again the look of exquisite anguish on his face, 
from which the color was being swiftly drained. He 
swayed dizzily, and clutched at the corner of the desk 
for support. Then a sharp cry broke from his lips, 
and he collapsed on the platform, unconscious. 

Like an echo to his cry came a terrified scream from 
Marion Clayton, who was the first to start from her 
seat and rush to the side of the prostrate man. As 
she dropped to her knees there, a tumult of excited, 
startled and pitying exclamations burst forth all over 
the room, and there was a general crowding forward; 
but Abe’s great height and strength enabled him to 
force his way through the human pack until he stood 
before the frightened group on the stage, where he ex¬ 
tended his arms as a barrier to the crowd and verbally 
urged them to give back and let the sick man have more 
air. There was something about him which com¬ 
manded obedience, even in an excited, curious crowd, 
and a moment later he was kneeling beside the girl, 
over the body of her father and his late antagonist. 

“ Hand me the water pitcher, Jonathan,” he said. 

“Oh! Oh! What is it? What is the matter with 
him? — Daddy! Daddy! Can’t some one dew some¬ 
thing? Abe. Oh, Abe, can’t you help him? ” implored 
the girl, wildly, as she clutched his arm with both her 
trembling hands. Unlike her mountain sisters, Marion 
had not been schooled to self-control in the face of 
tragedy or sudden crises. 

“ I’ll dew all I can, Marion. Naow, just try tew keep 
cool, and help. Let me have your handkerchief.” He 
took the little square of fine linen and lace which the 
girl had been wringing in her anguish, dipped it in the 
water and wiped the cold perspiration from the deathly 



314 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


white face of the unconscious man, and the flecks of 
blood from his drawn lips. “ I’ve no idea what’s wrong 
— of course it may be nothing serious — I sure hope it 
isn’t. But we’d best get him tew a doctor as quick as 
we can.” 

“ But haow? Haow can we? ” she wailed. “ It’s 
miles even tew Fayville, and he’ll die. He’ll die! ” 

“ I know just what tew dew,” declared Abe, with 
sudden inspiration. “ We’ll take him up tew Smiling 
Pass. Dr. McDonald and his wife have just arrived, 
and the place and their presence there is nothing less 
than a Godsend. Jonathan, you hitch up your jolt 
wagon, fill the bottom with hay and plenty of bed 
quilts, so it’ll ride easy, and we’ll have him in a real 
hospital inside of an haour.” 

His plan, the only feasible one, was put into immedi¬ 
ate execution under his cool directing, and, on a mes¬ 
sage brought ahead by one of Jonathan’s boys, the little 
House of Health was once more made ready for a pa¬ 
tient. The lad’s excited and decidedly incoherent re¬ 
port left them so much in the dark as to what had really 
happened that both the physician and his nurse-wife 
had prepared themselves for a possible operation, and 
donned hospital vestments which they had left there, a 
year previous. A city dispensary could hardly have 
been more in readiness for the reception of a sick man 
than was this out-of-the-way mountain spot, when the 
cavalcade finally arrived. 

The meeting between Omie’s old friends and her new 
one was far from what she had planned, but it was no 
less cordial and sincere. 

“ Mr. Blount? I’m mighty glad to know you,” said 
Donald, without introduction, as the unmistakable form 
of the State’s Attorney mounted the long flight of steps 
to the veranda, where the group was waiting. 



DESTINY 


315 


“ And I,” added Rose, extending her hand to meet 
the one which her husband was not clasping. 

“ I reckon that I was never more glad tew meet a 
particular man, Dr. McDonald. Mrs. 4 Smiles/ I had 
a nice speech all made up for Omie’s ideal, but it’ll have 
tew be postponed until some other time. We’ve all got 
aour hands full, naow, and we come bringing trouble 
tew those who banish it.” 

Nevertheless, Abe’s keen glance, sweeping the two 
faces, had weighed both man and woman, and found 
them not wanting, for Donald’s plain, strong counte¬ 
nance with its crisp iron-gray hair, and look of trained 
efficiency, inspired confidence, and “ Smiles ” was all 
that he had been led to believe. She was now a fully 
matured woman, although still girlishly slender and 
graceful, even in her starched white uniform, and her 
early loveliness had ripened into perfect bloom beneath 
the sun of her husband’s unaltering love, the shadows of 
strengthening trials, and through the gift of mother¬ 
hood. 

Now it was Dr. McDonald who took full charge. 
With few words he directed the four mountaineers 
where to lay the semi-conscious and softly moaning 
man, and then said, “ I’ll ask all of you to remain out¬ 
side, for a little while. Camille, we’ll want you, of 
course — and bring a basin of hot water. One moment, 
please, Miss Clayton. Has your father had any attack 
similar to this one, before? ” 

“ Oh, never. Why, doctor, he’s always had perfect 
health — he’s been so well and strong —” 

“ No illnesses, even minor ones? ” 

“ Nothing. Nothing, that is, except a little indiges¬ 
tion occasionally, after a heavy meal. He’s been 
so well— What can be the trouble, do you sup¬ 
pose? ” 



316 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Hmm. I’d rather not ‘ suppose ’ until after we’ve 
made an examination. But, there, keep up your cour¬ 
age. We won’t be long.” 

With a body-shaking sob Marion Clayton turned, 
blindly, and was caught in Omie’s arms. Her trouble 
had broken down the barrier of dislike and made the 
younger girl a womanly comforter. 

“ I wish you’d describe to me just what occurred 
when the Congressman had this attack,” said Donald, 
again addressing the State’s Attorney. “ The boy who 
brought the message was scared half out of his wits, 
and we couldn’t make head nor tail of his story.” 

Abe explained, with an accuracy and freedom from 
superfluous words which brought a nod of apprecia¬ 
tion from his listener. Dr. McDonald entered the hos¬ 
pital and closed the door, leaving, without, darkness 
and painful uncertainty. He returned in about fif¬ 
teen minutes, ignored Marion’s unspoken appeal other 
than to tell her that her father was resting com¬ 
fortably, and drew the State’s Attorney a little to one 
side. 

“ There’s no use in mincing matters,” he said. “ Con¬ 
gressman Clayton is a mighty sick man. I don’t hesi¬ 
tate to say, now, that he has a hemorrhagic ulcer of the 
stomach, and that there’s been a perforation. He’s 
had a profuse loss of blood, and his pulse is extremely 
weak and thready. I’ve given him an opiate to quiet 
the severe paroxysms of pain, but he’s very weak.” 

“ Does that mean that he’s likely tew die? ” de¬ 
manded the other, bluntly. 

“ Yes. Likely to. If peritonitis sets in, he probably 
won’t last thirty-six hours, and he may not, in any 
event. On the other hand, there’s a possibility of his 
recovering entirely, although I doubt it.” 

“ But haow is it possible? ” Abe’s amazement showed 



DESTINY 


317 


in his tone. “ Miss Clayton said that he’d never been 
sick before —” 

“ I’ve known cases of this sort where there wasn’t 
even a sign of illness or distress, previous to the col¬ 
lapse; but the discomfort after eating is a symptom of 
gastric ulcer. By the way, has he been addicted to the 
use of alcohol? ” 

“ I’m afraid so.” 

“ That may account for it. The point is a disputed 
one, but it’s dead certain that, if he’s been drinking 
much of the present day stuff, especially moonshine, it 
might explain the trouble. People don’t seem to realize 
how deadly this raw stuff, full of fusel oil, is. Even if 
they aren’t killed outright, or made blind by it, it’s 
bound to raise the very devil with their stomachs, 
sooner or later.” 

Abe’s expression, already one of sympathy and deep 
concern, grew even graver as a new thought entered his 
mind. 

“ Dr. McDonald, there’s more at stake than one hu¬ 
man life, just naow,” he said. “ But the greater thing 
depends upon that life.” Very briefly he outlined the 
political situation, and concluded, “ If Clayton should 
die to-night, which God forbid, there might be time for 
the District Chairman of the Republican party tew 
annaounce another candidate whose name should be 
substituted for his own on the ballot, although haow 
that would work aout, at this stage of the game, is a 
question. If he lives until after Tuesday, and the news 
of haow serious his condition is can be kept from the 
public, I’m naow convinced that he’ll be elected, al¬ 
though it’s going tew be a close thing. This is the 
crucial time. If we can beat every man on Lemos s 
‘ red ’ ticket, naow , that party will crumble, and then, if 
Clayton dies, a special election for Congressman tew 



318 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


fill the vacancy can be held withaout much danger from 
that anarchistic craowd. If he should die Tuesday be¬ 
fore the polls close, and yet receive the greatest num¬ 
ber of votes, the result would be the same, although 
there would certainly be a mix-up and perhaps a con¬ 
test, which would put new life into the opposition; but 
it’ll be even worse if the report that he is dying, and 
likely tew pass away any moment, gets aout generally. 
Warnings and instructions what tew dew, printed in the 
newspapers, wouldn’t reach, or have any effect on, hun¬ 
dreds up in these hills and a great many in the taowns, 
and there’s a possibility that enough would fail tew 
vote for Clayton, thinking that there’s no sense in elect¬ 
ing a dying man, tew — Good Lord. Through an al¬ 
most unbelievably mad trick of Fate that fellow Lemos 
might get himself elected, after all! Doctor, it’s up 
tew you. You’ve got tew dew everything that’s hu¬ 
manly possible tew keep him alive for four days, at 
least. Oh, I know that you would, anyway, and cure 
him if it can be done, but you see haow much even 
prolonging his life may mean under the circumstances.” 

Donald regarded the speaker with deepened interest, 
for Omie had told them all about the Primaries, Clay¬ 
ton’s hostility and bitterness toward the State’s Attor¬ 
ney, and how the latter had refused to retaliate. 
Rather curiously he answered, “ You seem to feel this 
pretty keenly, Mr. Blount. I thought that Clayton —” 

“ It isn’t the man, although I’m sorry for him, per¬ 
sonally, and don’t want tew see him die, if it can be 
helped. But if he dies naow, a cause that I’ve been 
fighting for, tooth and nail, will be faced with the pos¬ 
sibility of defeat, just when everything seemed tew 
be all set for victory. It may saound a good deal like 
mock heroics, but I honestly believe that I’d be willing 
tew swap places with Clayton this minute, and take 



DESTINY 


319 


his one chance in a hundred for life, rather than see 
what Lemos stands for win at this election.” 

“ I honestly believe that you would, Blount,” re¬ 
sponded Don, quietly. “ We haven’t much to work 
with, but I’ll do my darnedest, of course. We may be 
able to prevent peritonitis setting in, although I can’t 
be sure of that; but he’s quite as likely to succumb to 
extreme anemia — the result of losing so much blood. 
We can’t build up his strength by ordinary feeding, 
that’s wholly out of the question. And we haven’t the 
facilities for supplying nourishment artificially. In 
extreme cases, like this one, transfusion of blood is 
sometimes resorted to with success —” 

“ That means blood drawn from another person? ” 

“ Yes, but —” 

“ There are no 1 buts ’ abaout it, doctor. If that 
might increase his strength and keep him going, even a 
little longer, let’s dew it. His daughter would certainly 
agree, even if he isn’t in a condition to make the de¬ 
cision himself.” 

“Well, who—?” 

“ Good Lord, me, of course! I reckon that I can 
spare a little blood tew help a cause that I’ve boasted 
that I was ready tew die for,” answered Abe with a 
dry laugh. “ I’ve got plenty, and I don’t guess that 
there’s anything the matter with either my red or white 
corpuscles — you see I know the names, although 
hanged if I know the difference between ’em.” 

Half an hour later there took place the first operation 
for the transfusion of blood which had ever been per¬ 
formed in that mountain region. And the men who lay 
in adjacent beds in the little hospital at Smiling Pass 
— the one giving, the other unconsciously receiving the 
vital fluid — were bitter enemies. 



CHAPTER VIII 


FULFILLMENT 

In response to a frantic message sent by Marion 
Clayton — which had been carried by one of the boys 
to Fayville and telephoned thence to Culverton City, 
along with a vague but reassuring statement for the 
press, framed by Abe — the Clayton family physician, 
the Chairman of the District Committee and two other 
men arrived post haste at Smiling Pass, late Friday 
afternoon, and were immediately led into the room 
where the Congressman lay, very weak, but clear of 
mind, and with the edge of the pain dulled by opiates. 

Marion had, after her first uncontrolled grief, rallied 
all her will to meet the emergency, and remained at 
her father’s bedside continuously from the time of the 
operation, except for two hours in the early morning, 
when Rose had literally led her, stumbling, away to 
snatch a little sleep bred of exhaustion. And now she 
insisted upon remaining during the interview which 
followed, and clung to her father’s cold, moist hand 
throughout what was to be the hardest ordeal she had 
ever been called upon to face in all her life. 

The new doctor had also suggested that Donald re¬ 
main, partly as a matter of professional courtesy, 
partly because he felt like sharing his responsibility 
with another, especially when that other was a physi¬ 
cian so famous as Dr. McDonald of Boston; and Clay¬ 
ton had seconded his request. 

The half-hour conference which took place was a 
most serious one, and, at times, became hotly argumen¬ 
tative, the two doctors frequently calling a temporary 
320 


FULFILLMENT 321 


halt in it when they saw that their patient was becom¬ 
ing too greatly excited. Just what transpired is not a 
matter of record, for neither the heart-broken girl nor 
the conferees themselves ever disclosed, and the physi¬ 
cians’ lips were sealed by the conventions of their pro¬ 
fession; but Smiles overheard its ending, having been 
sent for by her husband to bring a drink of cool water 
to the sick man and she later recounted that little to 
just one person, the State’s Attorney, for reasons of 
her own. 

In a very weak voice, Clayton had said, “ Maybe 
you fellows think that this is melodramatic — the stuff 
you read abaout in fiction. Perhaps it is; but I reckon 
that both melodrama and story books are faounded on 
natural human emotions and reactions, after all, al¬ 
though it took this tew make me realize it. I’m dy¬ 
ing —” 

“No, no! daddy,” cried his daughter, protestingly. 

“ Yes. I know it, dearest. And I see things dif¬ 
ferent, naow. I’ve actually, if not honestly, convinced 
myself that certain things were not wrong, which were 
wrong. I played the game according tew the rules as 
I learned them, and excused myself by blaming cus¬ 
tom — which isn’t overfinicky in politics. I want you 
tew believe that, dear, and not think too badly of your 
dad; not think that he was deliberately dishonest in 
these matters. In the heat of a campaign — well, I 
reckon that we all say things that couldn’t bear the 
searchlight of truth. You all know what this man, 
Abe Blount, has done for me, after what I did tew him. 
It opened my eyes tew certain things that I’d kept them 
closed against in the past. And now — well, there’s only 
one thing for it. I’m baound tew make such amends 
as I can, and this isn’t really enough. It’s only a com¬ 
promise with my conscience at the best, but I can’t go 



322 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


back on — on some of my old friends. You,” he ad¬ 
dressed the two strangers directly, “ needn’t enter into 
it. You’re experts in covering up unsightly things and 
manipulating public opinion. I’m the only one who 
need be involved and for Marion’s sake and my own 
good name I hope that you’ll find some way to let me 
aout easy.” 

Suddenly he lifted himself a little and his voice grew 
louder and more excited. 

“ You’ve got tew agree, boys. If you don’t, by the 
Eternal I’ll go further and make another affidavit — 
a dying man’s confession — that’ll spell ‘ Finis ’ for — 
for a lot more than me, politically. Don’t try tew start 
that discussion again. My God, you don’t — you can’t 
know haow I feel abaout this, but my mind’s absolutely 
made up.” Breathing hard, and with the cold perspira¬ 
tion starting in beads from his forehead, he dropped 
weakly back on the pillow, and the physicians hastened 
to administer a stimulant. More calmly he continued, 
in a voice hardly above a hoarse whisper, “ I reckon 
that I got Abe Blount intew this mess, in the first place. 
I told him he was the logical man tew succeed me — 
in Congress. I was simply talking then; but it’s true. 
He is the logical man, the best man in this District. 
What I said was — a prophecy. This will be — fulfill¬ 
ment.” He closed his pain-filled eyes for a moment and 
seemed to be on the point of fainting. Rallying him¬ 
self again, he went on. “ You boys have got tew come 
through for Abe Blount — naow. Next time — well, I 
shan’t be hyar tew give or take orders, and you can 
act as your consciences ”— a shadow of a wry smile 
appeared on his lips —“ dictate. Dew I get your prom¬ 
ise, or have I got tew — ? ” 

The others promised. There was nothing else for 
them to do, it seemed. After a few final encouraging 



FULFILLMENT 


323 


words, they left the room and stepped onto the veranda, 
their expression partly relief and partly consternation. 
There they held a brief consultation and finally the one 
in authority, seeing Omie in the doorway of the House 
of Happiness, called to her and asked if the State's At¬ 
torney were about. Abe had been awake all night, and 
now, rather weak and a little dizzy from the loss of 
blood, had gone to his own cottage for a brief rest. At 
first the girl did not wish to call him, but the stranger 
had a manner which, though entirely courteous, car¬ 
ried its own way, and she compromised by letting him 
accompany her to the little house on the knoll. When 
Abe had somewhat irritably answered to the visitor’s 
call, and appeared, half dressed, at the doorway, Omie 
departed, reluctantly, for she sensed something unusual 
in an atmosphere which was already charged with 
dramatic intensity. Peaceful Smiling Pass was that 
day the scene of great events in the making, and she 
felt, somehow, outside it all, a little girl again, and 
wanted neither in the hospital, where her Smiles was 
constantly engaged, nor in the councils of men. 

The visitor waited until she was out of earshot, hav¬ 
ing tacitly declined Abe’s invitation to enter the cot¬ 
tage. Then he said, “ Mr. Blount, we’ve never met, 
but I think that perhaps you know me by name. I’m 
Malley.” 

“ I reckoned so,” Abe answered, noncommittally. 

“ Why? ” asked the other, with a frank and rather 
engaging smile. 

“ Well, you’re generally tew be faound in the — not 
sanctum sanctorum , perhaps, but inner circle of politi¬ 
cal affairs in the State, according tew the tell. And 
just at present that seems tew be hyar.” 

“ That statement may have some truth in it — and 
it may or may not be a compliment.” Malley’s smile 



324 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


broadened. “ I’ve got something of considerable im¬ 
portance to say to you, speaking as man to man, Mr. 
Blount, and I hope that you’ll give me the benefit of 
the doubt, and assume that I’m honest, although I 
rather imagine that some one’s been maligning me to 
you. Perhaps I’m not as — er — politically depraved 
as I’ve sometimes been painted. ‘ Give a dog a bad 
name,’ you know. I’ll start by giving you my word 
that the hearsay evidence contained in your now fa¬ 
mous affidavit was a long way from being the truth. 
Drink inflames the imagination, as well as the stomach, 
you know, and the bootleggers did a lot of romancing 
for the benefit of your poor friend Fugate. You can 
believe that, or not, as you like; but I want to assure 
you that neither I, nor any of the others who were 
charged with being mixed up in a criminal evasion of 
one of the laws, were even in the remotest manner in¬ 
terested in, or party to, the — er — removal of the 
man who made the incriminating affidavit. Somehow, 
I don’t relish the thought that any one would credit me 
with being in the slightest way accessory to murder, 
if it was murder, even though we lawyers are sometimes 
charged with the capacity for every kind of law-break¬ 
ing. Oh, I don’t mean that you personally —” 

“ You’re right. I haven’t a doubt but that it was 
murder; but the suggestion that any one, except the 
bootleggers who had talked too much for their own 
good, was implicated in it, is absurd. But all that’s 
beside the point. You came to see me abaout poor 
Clayton, of course. Haow is he, naow? ” 

“ He’s dying.” 

“No! ” 

“ There’s almost no question about it, in spite of 
what you did for him — and as an old and good friend 
of Clay’s I want to thank you, Blount.” 



FULFILLMENT 


325 


“ Don’t. It’s only what any man would have done 
for any other under the circumstances. But I’d 
hoped — You’re sure that he can’t pull through? ” 

“ Yes, damn it.” There was a suspicion of real mois¬ 
ture in Malley’s eyes, and a slight break in his voice. 
“ He knows it, himself. Weak — he’s — he’s done, 
that’s all. Poor fellow. He’s been a mighty likable 
cuss and really had more ability than some folks gave 
him credit for.” The man removed his eyeglasses and 
polished them with meticulous care before replacing 
them. “ About that transfusion of blood. I doubt 
your statement that any one would have done it. How¬ 
ever, the fact remains that you did do it, and Clay — 
we all — appreciate it. You’re — all right, Blount.” 

To get the conversation away from the trend which 
had suddenly become personally distressing, Abe re¬ 
sponded in a lighter vein. “ All right as far as I go, 
but I go too dommed far, as the Irishman said, per¬ 
haps you think.” 

“ Well, there may be something in that. We seem 
to differ as to political —er —methods; but I’m not 
going to quarrel with you on that point, now . I think 
that we can agree on one thing, however; the absolute 
necessity of electing the whole Republican ticket in 
this Republican district, next Tuesday.” 

Almost without conscious volition the State’s Attor¬ 
ney thrust out his hand and it was grasped by Malley. 
Weary and somewhat weakened, Abe was beginning to 
forget his hostility towards the unscrupulous party 
Boss and respond to the strength and personal magne¬ 
tism of the man. There was something about him which 
inspired liking and confidence of a kind, which of 
course accounted for his success as a political Czar. 

“ You’re dead right abaout that. We dew agree, I 
reckon,” he replied. 



326 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Yes. Now Clayton’s death is going to change the 
complexion of the Congressional contest, entirely. 
We’ve got to be prepared, if he dies as soon as I ex¬ 
pect, to place a strong substitute candidate on the 
ballot immediately, and — well, Blount, you’re the 
man.” 

“I am? ” Abe spoke with utter amazement, which 
was not strange, considering the source of the an¬ 
nouncement. 

“ Exactly. The Party Chairman has already decided 
that — and I approve.” 

“ But — but that’s absurd, Malley. Look at the 
Primaries! Why, I’d be licked tew a frazzle. Le- 
mos —” 

“ On the contrary you’ll win, perhaps not in a walk, 
but nevertheless certainly. You can take that from 
one who was playing politics when you were playing 
with paper soldiers.” Abe’s memory bridged the years 
back to his early boyhood in the primitive, one-room 
cabin, and he smiled grimly. “ You’ve felt the power 
of what you anathematize as ‘ the machine,’ and of the 
Press directed against you; but these can be just as 
readily made the agents of your election, even at this 
short notice. Perhaps it will teach you a salutary les¬ 
son in how important a closely-knit organization, ame¬ 
nable to direction and discipline, if necessary, really is 
in this game.” 

“ Organization’s all right. What I object tew is —” 

“ I know — read reports of your speeches. We won’t 
start an ethical discussion now, for this is a practical 
matter, and I think that the end will justify the means, 
even from your standpoint. Why, Good Lord, man, you 
ought to know by this time how easy it is to sway popu¬ 
lar emotion first one way and then the other — you’ve 



FULFILLMENT 


327 


taken a hand in doing it yourself. And think of the 
sensation, judiciously handled of course, that the news 
of Clayton’s sudden death, your own blood sacrifice in 
a futile endeavor to save his life, and the Republican 
organization’s acceptance of you as a substitute candi¬ 
date, with all that implies, will make! Clay’s admitted 
one of your charges against his fitness to hold office — 
that he’s been an offender against the Volstead law, 
but that won’t injure his memory much. Almost every¬ 
body’s doing it.” 

The suddenness and unexpectedness of it all had left 
Abe utterly bewildered; he felt much the same as might 
a lost spirit if Satan appeared abruptly and handed it 
the key of Paradise. 

“ I just can’t grasp —” he began, and Malley broke 
in with, “ Perhaps it’s just as well that you shouldn’t — 
entirely. But I’m stating a fact. You’ve got to be 
the candidate, and you’re going to be elected. I’ll tell 
you frankly that the so-called machine isn’t keen 
abaout you, politically, however much some of us may 
admire you, personally. Just the same, you’re our best 
bet in the emergency; I wouldn’t be sure that we could 
put across any one else, and we can’t afford to let the 
Party lose a single seat in Congress that can be saved. 
We’ll lose a-plenty, in any event. Wait. I want you 
to understand that there are no strings attached to this, 
Blount. I know that you wouldn’t touch it if there 
were. And, once more speaking as man to man, I’ll 
add that two years from now we’ll probably do our 
damnedest to see that you receive a pressing invita¬ 
tion to remain at home.” 

Abe grinned cheerfully. 

“ Under those conditions I accept.” 

“ Good.” Malley breathed a breath of relief, for he 



328 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


felt that he had extricated himself from an unpleasant 
predicament rather adroitly. “ Will you shake on 
that? ” 

“ Why not? ” 

Again the two men clasped hands warmly. 

“ How do you propose to go abaout it? Stickers? ” 

“ Yes. They can be printed to-morrow morning and 
distributed to the Sheriffs to be pasted on the ballots, 
Sunday and Monday — if Clayton dies. We’ll need the 
help of all the friends you can scrape up in this moun¬ 
tain region, although men will be sent up from Cum¬ 
berland City, too. I’ll keep in touch with you, and 
attend to all the publicity stuff, and of course you’ll 
notify me the moment that poor Clay cashes in his 
checks. Now I’ve got to be getting back to my ma¬ 
chine, down at Fayville. Good-afternoon, Blount.” 

Congressman Clayton died that evening. 

The news of his passing was imparted to Omie a 
quarter of an hour later, and a surge of sympathy drove 
her to find and comfort the girl who had been so tragi¬ 
cally deprived of father, and left alone in the world. 
Marion had been led to the office in the House of Hap¬ 
piness, Donald told her, and she sought her there, walk¬ 
ing down the veranda softly, as one does in the pres¬ 
ence of Death. The office windows were partially open, 
for the night was mild, and within the room the lamp 
with its green shade burned low. In the half light she 
saw a picture which caused her to stop, suddenly. 
Marion Clayton, her graceful form drooping with 
weariness and shaken by spasmodic sobs, was awk¬ 
wardly held in Abe’s comforting arms; her face was 
pressed against his breast. Only a fraction of a minute 
did Omie stand outside, an unwilling witness to the 
scene, but that was long enough for a few broken sen- 



FULFILLMENT 


329 


tences to fall upon her ears. “ Oh, Abe, he’s dead, he’s 
dead . I’m all alone, naow. I’ve been wicked and 
unjust tew you — and it hurt. But — I didn’t know 
— and I loved daddy so. I thought—” 

“ There, there. I understand.” 

“ But can you ever forgive me, Abe? ” 

“ Why, there’s nothing at all tew forgive, my child.” 
Then Omie stole silently away, and went blindly 
through the night to her room. 

It is unnecessary to chronicle in detail the hap¬ 
penings of the next four hectic days, during which sen¬ 
sation trod on the heels of sensation — each carefully 
staged and timed — and political excitement rose to 
fever heat. Sufficient it is to state that Malley and the 
other party leaders “ came through ” with every means 
at their command, and triumphantly elected the man 
whom they had once bitterly opposed. Abe Blount re¬ 
ceived close to fifteen thousand votes, winning over 
Lemos of the People’s Independent Party by five thou¬ 
sand, with the Democratic nominee a close third. His 
plurality was greatly increased by the mountain vote, 
for the story of what he had done had been broadcast 
by a far older method of spreading news than either 
telegraph or radio, and in such a manner as to appeal 
to their somewhat childlike imaginations. It is fair to 
assume that if Clayton had lived his margin would have 
been a smaller one by many votes. 

Moreover, the gods in the machine kept the promise 
which Malley had made the dying Congressman to the 
spirit as well as to the letter, paying their debt in full. 
The Governor of Cumberland called a special election 
at the earliest date allowed by law, and Abe was elected, 
without opposition, to serve out his predecessor’s unex¬ 
pired term, and represent the Twelfth District at the 



330 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Fourth Session of the 67th Congress, shortly to con¬ 
vene. He was at last “ the Honorable Abe Blount.” 

The speed with which these various events crowded 
upon one another kept him up to his neck in the task 
of straightening out his affairs, preparatory to leaving 
for the National Capital, and his friends at Smiling 
Pass saw him very seldom. But they continued to re¬ 
joice over the unexpected turn which had taken place 
and his new success; none more than Omie, although 
the fire of hopeless love and longing still burned within 
her heart. With the passing days the pain of the burn¬ 
ing diminished until only a gnawing ache remained — 
and then it was fanned into hot flame again by a Cul- 
verton City newspaper, which carried the following 
brief news item. 

“ New Congressman Names Secretary — Blount 
Selects Marion Clayton. Southern chivalry and excel¬ 
lent judgment are combined in the selection, announced 
to-day, of Miss Marion Clayton of this City to fill the 
responsible post of Secretary to our new Congressman, 
Hon. Abraham Blount. Miss Clayton, daughter of 
the late Representative, is widely known throughout 
the State and in Washington. She is not only a highly 
attractive and able young woman, but already ‘ knows 
the ropes 7 and will be of inestimable value to Congress¬ 
man Blount, officially and socially, alike. We congrat¬ 
ulate them both.” 

It had not occurred to Abe to comment on this mat¬ 
ter prior to giving the news out for publication. In¬ 
deed he had not considered the matter at all or even 
known that he must have a secretary until he had re¬ 
ceived a letter from Marion, mentioning the fact and 
hesitatingly offering her services, if he should desire 
them. It had been a difficult letter for her to write, 
and, although she did not set forth her chief reason 



FULFILLMENT 


331 


for writing it, Abe read it between the lines, and made 
a quiet investigation which led to a confirmation of his 
guess. Clayton’s estate amounted to practically noth¬ 
ing. He had left his daughter almost penniless. 

The girl, taking his ignorance of conditions which 
surround a Representative for granted, had outlined 
the work of a secretary and the absolute necessity of 
his having one, at least, adding that he would incur no 
personal expense, since the Government made a liberal 
allowance for clerk hire, in addition to the amount 
which he would himself receive as salary. 

“ Ah, the first ‘ perquisite,’ ” said Abe to himself, as 
he read that paragraph. 

In her rather pitiful effort not to appear too impor¬ 
tunate and too self-laudatory — for a sad blow had 
been imparted to her pride, when realization that she 
must seek employment in order to live had come, and 
that her best chance to obtain a position for which she 
was really fitted was through the man whom her father 
had so deeply injured — Marion had leaned backwards 
in minimizing her own really excellent qualifications. 
But she did state that she had familiarized herself with 
the work, to some degree, by assisting occasionally in 
her father’s office, her name having appeared on the 
House payroll as an assistant clerk therein, that she 
knew the departmental routine, and had a social ac¬ 
quaintance with a great many Congressmen and other 
Government officials, whose friendship would be of in¬ 
estimable value to a new man. She said that she was 
not a stenographer, but had owned her own typewriter 
since college days, and, although it had been chiefly a 
plaything, she had become a fairly rapid and accurate 
typist. She ended by fairly begging him not to take 
her if so doing would be in any way an act of charity, 
primarily, on his part, and please, please forget that 



332 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


she had even written the letter if he had other plans in 
mind. 

The communication both brought Abe face to face 
with an unsuspected necessity and an apparently ideal 
solution of the problem. He immediately sat down and 
wrote a brief, grateful note accepting her offer, never 
stopping to think that there might be mutual danger, 
as well as mutual satisfaction, in the arrangement, or 
even remotely dreaming that the news of it would be a 
heart-thrust for his closest friend. 



CHAPTER IX 


WASHINGTON GLIMPSES 

During the next four months — from December, 
Nineteen Twenty-two to March, Nineteen Twenty- 
three— Marion Clayton was the center and fulcrum 
point of Abe’s life in all its phases. 

By day she ran his office, wisely and well in the main, 
attending to practically all of the hundred and one 
things which a Congressman, no longer exclusively a 
legislator, but in addition “ errand boy ” for his Dis¬ 
trict, is called upon to do for constituents with a hun¬ 
dred and one different wants or needs. 

By night she ordered his comings and goings, coax¬ 
ing or almost driving him into at least the fringe of the 
social life of Washington’s officialdom. Further he 
flatly refused to go, and he loathed even that little, for 
artificiality and he were as far apart as the poles, and 
most society is artificial. He felt, and was, out of place 
in it. His great form and homely face were bound to 
attract attention and made him the cynosure of many 
curious or amused eyes, wherever he went. He was 
like a police dog among Pomeranians. But the atten¬ 
tion which he attracted and disliked was far from dis¬ 
pleasing to his secretary-by-day and social mentor in 
the evening. She had not misstated the breadth of her 
official acquaintance and her past popularity was not 
impaired by her present position. So it was with keen 
regret that she eventually gave him up as hopeless, in 
that one respect, and left him, nights, to his books, or 
his many male friends. 

Marion’s interest in and success with her responsible 
work was in part the result of the feeling that she sim- 
333 


334 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


ply had to make good and serve him efficiently as repa¬ 
ration for the way she had treated him. In part, grow¬ 
ing in strength with what it fed on, it was the result 
of the realization that she, who had never had to do, 
nor done, a serious day’s work in her life, was capable 
of performing the task efficiently. She was actually a 
part of the Government itself, and things which she 
had once, with some annoyance, heard discussed and 
had straightway forgotten, took on a new and vital in¬ 
terest. Marion, too, had grown up, almost over night. 
Finally, Abe’s frank appreciation of her mounting ef¬ 
ficiency in writing businesslike or tactful letters, with¬ 
out suggestion from him and in carrying the routine 
departmental matters to a successful conclusion, 
spurred her to still greater efforts. His brief, occa¬ 
sional words of actual praise sounded sweet upon her 
ears. Her chief thought and aim was to lighten his 
work and make easier for him the unfamiliar way; but 
this, plus propinquity, led to other thoughts, inevita¬ 
bly. 

It was she who arranged in advance for their room 
in the House Office Building, writing to the Clerk of 
the House her preference as to the location of the office 
if any choice were possible, and particularly requesting 
that it be one other than her father’s. She could not 
bear the thought of working in that , now. 

It was she who decreed how the mahogany office 
furniture — his desk and hers, the long table, book¬ 
cases, filing cabinets, wardrobe, coat rack, folding 
screen and six chairs, all supplied by a generous Uncle 
Sam — should be placed. It was she who ordered the 
stationery, with his name and hers on it, and other 
supplies, and who fitted out his desk with every acces¬ 
sory. It was she — 

But perhaps the story of those four months, crowded 



WASHINGTON GLIMPSES 


335 


with new sights, sensations and experiences for the man, 
can be epitomized in no better way than by quoting 
from letters which the girl wrote to her dearest chum. 
They contain merely random jottings on matters which 
appealed to her interest at the moment, and are often 
trivial, perhaps. But the small, seemingly common¬ 
place things often serve as the true touchstones of char¬ 
acter and emotion better than the more serious and ob¬ 
vious ones. 

Not a word appears in them about the legislative 
career of the new Congressman. That is not strange, 
since it is only just now in the making; then it had 
scarcely commenced. He was a mere tyro in state¬ 
craft, and of a type that preferred to move slowly until 
he knew his ground, to wait and watch, familiarizing 
himself with the how and why of things, before attempt¬ 
ing seriously to enter the arena and engage in the con¬ 
test. Furthermore, he had arrived toward the end of 
a Congress, and his Committee assignments were few 
and minor ones, as was natural. 

“ Dec. 4 . 

“. . . This noon I went over and sat in the House gallery 
while Abe was being sworn in. It was surprising what a feel¬ 
ing of elation it gave me —no, not surprising after all, 
perhaps. I’m his secretary, so he’s MY Member.” 

. . I wish I could send you a picture of Abe’s face 
when I forbade him to shift the office furniture to suit my 
new arrangement, which gives his desk a little more privacy 
from the gaze of people passing through the hall. He will 
have the door wide open. I told him that it simply wasn’t 
done — it would be a faux pas for a member to do such 
a thing. And it was funnier when I telephoned, and 
the H.O.B. superintendent sent up an assistant, two husky 
colored men, and a little truck to do a job which he vowed 
he could have done in a quarter the time with one hand tied 



336 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


behind him — and I believe that he could. I never saw any 
one so strong. When they said that they couldn’t fasten 
my new typewriter to the desk and that I would have to 
telephone to the carpenter, I thought that he would explode. 
He wanted to know how many men were drawing government 
money for helping each other loaf! ” 

“ Dec. 6. 

“. . . Abe suffered another shock to-day — he must have 
Puritan blood in his veins. I inveigled him into going down 
into the stationery room to pick out a style of engraving 
for his personal cards, and informed him that each regular 
session he had $125.00 placed to his credit to take in cash 
or expend in charged purchases of anything which they carry, 
sold at cost price. I noticed that he was looking around 
with unusual interest, and when we got back to the office 
he blurted out, ‘Stationery room! There’s scissors and 
knives, safety razors, cigarette holders and cases, purses, 
beaded bags, traveling bags, suit cases, toilet articles, 
pictures, golf things —’ I might have added that a year ago 
he could have included leather-covered pocket flasks, but 
caught myself in the nick of time * It sounded like one of 
our college tests on power of observation and he passed 
100%. ‘We can buy all of those things — plus stationery, 
which wasn’t in evidence — at cost, out of our $125.00 per 
session? ’ he asked. As well as I could, I explained that the 
sum was an outright allowance to cover office supplies, and 
his to use as he liked, and whether he liked it or not, and 
he had me sit down and estimate what our legitimate sta¬ 
tionery expense would be in the course of a year. The re¬ 
sult left a balance of some hundred dollars in our — I should 
say, his pocket. It actually hurt his feelings. He forth- 

* Abe’s vote later that session helped to pass, much to the dis¬ 
gust of certain Members, an amendment to the Legislative Ap¬ 
propriation Bill, as follows: “ No part of the funds herein appro¬ 
priated shall be used for the purpose of purchasing by or through 
the Stationery Room articles other than stationery and office sup¬ 
plies essential »to and necessary for the conduct of public busi¬ 
ness.” 



WASHINGTON GLIMPSES 


337 


with gave me carte blanche to buy whatever I liked, there, 
for myself. Was there ever such an unsophisticated man? 
It was like handing me his check book and saying ‘ Help 
yourself! ’ 4 So, that’s one of the “ perquisites,” ’ he added. 
1 Well, go on — tell me the worst. What else do we get, free 
gratis for nothing? ’ Of course he hadn’t any comment to 
make on our postal and telegraph franks for official business, 
nor yet concerning the number of books and other govern¬ 
ment publications which are coming in all the time. And 
he rather liked the idea of having twenty thousand packages 
of vegetables and two thousand dittos of flower seeds from 
the Dept, of Agriculture, to distribute among his constituents 
— although I don’t, for it will mean night work for me, 
sending them out. I could see that he was thinking of his 
mountain friends, especially.* 

“ But when I came to the matter of mileage, he whistled 
again, and did some figuring on his own account. You know 
that our round trip from home costs about $45.00 but he 
receives an allowance of twenty cents a mile, each way, or 
$240.00 for the six hundred mile journey, each session. (I 
was always A in higher mathematics, you remember!) As 
Abe’s a single man, that means several hundred more in his 
purse, annually, and I told him, in jest, that he owed it 
to his Country to get married and spend it in bringing his 
wife — no, I didn’t go any farther. He looked pained for a 
moment. I wonder if he thinks that the c bar sinister ’ is 
raised against his ever marrying? It would be just like him 
to feel that way, although it’s nonsense, of course. However, 
when he learned that mere secretaries had to pay their own 
fares, he insisted upon reimbursing me out of his allowance. 
Yes, I did take it. It was a pure matter of business, and 
I’m awfully hard up.” 

In a later letter she wrote: 

“ Our splendid office building is a revelation to Abe, and 
‘ a thing of joy forever.’ Of course I introduced him to the 

* The annual distribution of “ free seeds ” was also abolished by 
the 67th Congress. 



338 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


restaurant and branch post office, but he discovered for 
himself the barbershop, from which they will telephone 
when they are ready for their ‘Next’; the turkish baths 
and gym, and the subway to the Capitol. He pretended 
to be highly incensed when I told him that the one run¬ 
ning from the Senate Office Building boasted an electric 
car, so that the Senators did not have to walk the two 
hundred and fifty underground yards, while we had to 
hoof it.” 

Again. 

“Abe nearly explodes whenever he gets on the sub¬ 
ject of procedure in the House. He can’t abide the ex¬ 
cessive formality, delays, needless debates and still more 
senseless speeches which so many Members make simply to 
get them printed in the Record, and send to their constit¬ 
uents. One member from Oklahoma, who is everlastingly in¬ 
terrupting, particularly ‘ gets his goat ’— I reckon that you 
know whom I mean. On returning to the office this after¬ 
noon he remarked, ‘ Well, the House has just spent two hours 
hotly discussing a matter of which, as Elbert Hubbard once 
remarked, paraphrasing an earlier paragrapher, “ There was 
nothing to be said on both sides.” ’ Oh, well. I reckon 
we do the best we can, under present handicaps. But I some¬ 
times think that our distinguished Senators, theoretically the 
flower of the political field, do the worst they can, pretty 
successfully. What’s the use of our passing legislation which 
they won’t have time to consider, what with their 4 investi¬ 
gations ’ and forensic debates? They seem to have lost sight 
of the fact that according to the Constitution they form a 
legislative body. 

“ Abe is making a particular study of procedure and will 
be heard from one of these days, or I miss my guess. Taxa¬ 
tion and National Defense are his other two legislative hob¬ 
bies. He ought to be on Ways and Means, the amount of 
studying he does on the subject — and he’ll land there 
eventually, see if he doesn’t. He isn’t satisfied with read- 



WASHINGTON GLIMPSES 


339 


ing about it, daytimes, when the House isn’t in session, 
but must talk it in the hotel lobby, nights. Daddy never 
did either, I’m sorry to say — now. Speaking of the Hotel, 
I’m both glad and sorry that I suggested his staying there. 
He is in contact with a great many other Members, of course, 
so many live there, but it seems to me that every time I 
want to inveigle him into doing something of a social nature 
he is in the middle of a bunch of men, talking shop or tell¬ 
ing funny stories. Of course he has become a general favorite, 
already, and, although he’s still ‘ woman-shy/ men cotton to 
him on sight — and so do children. If he isn’t surrounded 
by the former he is by the latter, about all the time. They 
hang on him, climb on him and make him tell them mountain 
stories or read to them. Imagine that giant reading aloud 
from Alice in Wonderland, or The Hunting of the Snark — 
and enjoying it hugely! I get positively jealous, some¬ 
times. Now don’t go jumping at conclusions. It’s nothing 
like that! But I do enjoy our frank intimacy, and do 
think that he’s a truly remarkable character. Of course he’s 
homely, but what of it? Yes, Captain Wiley is still atten¬ 
tive again this year and he is rather a dear; but — Oh, I 
don’t know.” 

“ January 22nd. 

. . I was sitting in one of the big chairs in the hotel 
lobby last night and overheard a Congressman behind me 
mention Abe Blount’s name in speaking to another. 
Naturally I kept as still as the proverbial mouse, but 
pricked up my ears. In such cases one is supposed to hear 
nothing good, but this was the exception proving the rule, 
I reckon. They had just finished a hot discussion over some 
legislative measure, I gathered, and one said, ‘ Blount was 
right. He’s had a sound legal training, but, better than 
that, he’s got that rather rare-in-human-beings quality, 
horse sense. He’s going to make his mark, here. Ought to 
be on Judiciary next year/ The other voice agreed, and 
added, ‘ There’s something a bit Lincolnesque about him, 
and that goes for more than his looks. I’d rather listen 
to him spinning yarns than to Tom Heflin.’ You remember 



340 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


the distinguished gentleman from Alabama’s ability in that 
respect, I expect.” 

“ February 7th. 

. . As you’ve probably read, at least in the headlines, 
the President addressed Congress this noon on the British 
Debt Funding plan. Once I would have scoffed at the idea 
of getting into that crowd to hear a mere President speak, 
but I’m a changed (wo)man, now, and have quit posing, 
and made use of Abe’s gallery ticket. 

“ Afterwards, I was curious to hear what Abe would say 
about the President, whom he had never seen before — I 
simply could not get him to make a formal call. He was 
enthusiastic. ‘ Every inch the man and the gentleman,’ he 
said. ‘And plenty of ability coupled with amiability; 
strength with sweetness, I reckon.’ I told him that Mr. 
Harding looked older — white and tired — to me, and he 
answered, ‘ How can he help it? I don’t see how any flesh 
and blood being stands up under four years of such a load, 
carried at the pace he has to follow. I guess the English 
are wiser than we, under present-day conditions. Two men 
share in the task there — the Prime Minister, who carries 
the Executive, and the King who bears the Social burden 
— and the latter is a man-size job. We make one person 
perform both functions, and, in the words of the cartoonist, 
“ It’s all wrong.” The wonder is how he keeps from break¬ 
ing down entirely, under the strain.’ ” 

“ February 14th. 

“ Can you imagine me as a proxy Congressman — who 
used to labor at nothing except the latest dance steps! In 
imagination behold me now answering the bulk of all cor¬ 
respondence, and forging my Chief’s scrawly signature to 
most of it. About the only thing of a Departmental routine 
matter which Abe insists upon doing himself is attending to 
the Veterans Bureau cases. He goes down to the Arlington 
Building personally, on many of them, and has had great 
luck — if it is luck, which of course it isn’t — in getting fa¬ 
vorable results for his wounded or sick ‘ buddies.’ Daddy 



WASHINGTON GLIMPSES 341 


never got such compensation allowances. But ordinary 
letters I do, and you have no idea what a variety of things 
constituents appeal to their Congressman for. Some of 
them are too absurd, and some positively pathetic, especially 
letters from our mountain counties. One arrived this A.M. 
and here’s a true copy (attest, M.C.) of it. 

“ ‘ Senator A. Blount., 

“ ‘ Wite House, Washington. (That’s some rapid politi¬ 
cal advance for you, from Congressman, through Senator and 
into the White House in two seconds!) 

“ ‘ i Rite you in Regards to the Pansion Bill for the ex- 
survise Man Wich are asking me to Rite you. I was 
in the Survice and some that Was throu the Same time 
get a pansion. Now i Rote to the Senator and he Says 
that it has passed the Senut and to Rite to you and 
you Would in form me in the matter can you tell me 
if the Bill Will come up befor the Haus and if you 
Will use infloonce to git It thrue as some of Us are in 
a norful bad way Will you Please in fom me of the 
Matter and Sand me a cuppy of the Bill and tell me 
from under What hed it cumes under and i Will oblige 
you very much thanking you to do so i Will Reman 
“ 1 very Respectfully/ 

“ There, isn’t that pathetic in more ways than one? 

“ No, you’re wrong — at least I think that you are. Of 
course I’m just terribly fond of Abe — how could I help 
being? — but it isn’t that — yet.” 

Secretary Marion Clayton also wrote the following 
letter, since Abe had not improved as a personal cor¬ 
respondent, and the typing of it, taking dictation direct 
to the machine, gave her heart a two-fold shock. 

“ February 20, 1923. 

“ Mr. Virgil Gayheart, 

“ Smiling Pass. 

“ Dear Virgil: 

“ Thanks for yours of the 18th. The news about Noah 



342 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Fugate is naturally disquieting; but I was glad to have it. 
His mind must be unbalanced, poor lad. He has always 
had a 1 hair trigger 7 temper, and the baleful influence of Tom 
Lemos, coming on top of his father’s tragic death, has prob¬ 
ably given a left hand twist to his brain, as you say. Omie 
must have had a most unpleasant quarter hour of it. It is 
of course needless for me to advise you to take every pre¬ 
caution against its happening again — I shall be home my¬ 
self, in about a fortnight, and see if something cannot be 
done to have him restrained. Has any one any idea where 
he came from and returned to? My love to all of you, 
especially my little chum. 


“ Yours, 


“ Abe? 


“ February 28th. 

“ Please destroy the enclosed clipping as soon as you 
have read it — it’s too awful! I’m actually praying that 
Abe may not happen to see it, and think that he won’t, for 
he never reads, or listens to, ■ society drivel,’ as he calls it. 
The worst of it is that it appeared in that horrid sensational 
sheet just after I had been making a perfect fool of myself, 
and if he should read it, now , I don’t know what I would do 
— just ‘ lay me doon and dee,’ probably. This afternoon I 
had one of those all-let-down, nervous, lonesome, blue, head¬ 
achy spells and of course he had to come back to the office, 
unexpectedly, and find me with my head down on the desk, 
blubbering. He was terribly shocked, of course, and put his 
comforting — yes, they are! —arms half around me, tried 
to get me to tell him what the matter was — just like a 
man! —and to cheer me up, when I wanted to enjoy being 
thoroughly miserable, for a while. ‘ There’s nothing like a 
darned good cry ’ once in a while, you know. Oh, it was 
quite a touching scene, for a few moments, and I got his 
waistcoat all teary. You and I promised to tell each other 
when it happened, and, although it didn’t, as in novels, 
I’ve got to confess that if he had asked me at that particular 
moment I should have said, ‘ Yes.’ A girl would be safe and 



WASHINGTON GLIMPSES 343 


happy for life, in his strong arms. But — there is still a 
but. 

“ The clipping. ‘ Our newest Congressman, the Hon. Abe 
Blount and his charming Secretary, daughter of his late 
predecessor, are almost inseparable companions, both in 
and out of working hours — if that term can be properly 
applied to Capitol Hill. It is rumored that this highly 
satisfactory partnership may be made permanent. Well, it 
is no new thing for an MC to have a member of his family 
on the secretarial payroll.’ ” 

“ March 4th. 

“ Hurray for home, day after to-morrow. I’ve got loads 
of things to tell you, but I won’t write them, since I 
shall see you so soon, and then for an exchange of con¬ 
fidences, as of yore. But I have news — great big news, 
too. Now I reckon that you’re consumed with curiosity, 
old dear! 

The 67th Congress adjourned, sine die, at noon to-day, 
after the usual hour of going-home jollification, which I wit¬ 
nessed from the gallery. There was the customary burial 
of all the little hatchets — and hammers; the fulsome eulo¬ 
gies of the living and (politically) dead; the jokes and 
laughter. There was the wonderful Marine Band making the 
House rafters ring with sweet but brazen sounds, and the 
impromptu double quartet singing old songs, in close har¬ 
mony, slightly off key, and Abe was two of them — at least 
he sang loud enough for two. The floor was jammed, of 
course, but he towered above the standing crowd like the 
Eiffel tower above the roofs of Paris, with a Congressman’s 
small kiddie on each shoulder, clinging to his neck and 
shrieking with delight. I envied them — their vantage 
point. What a wonderful 1 daddy ’ he’ll make for his own 
children some day.” 





CHAPTER X 


THE HOME-COMING 

The Honorable Abe Blount was coming home to 
Smiling Pass. 

He had written Virgil a scrawled note, announcing 
that he would be with them in time for supper Tuesday 
evening, and meant to spend at least a week loafing in 
his own new cottage, before even thinking of his new 
job — his secretary could run it — or making arrange¬ 
ments for the office which he now simply had to open 
at Culverton City. 

Once Omie’s heart would have leaped at the news of 
his home-coming, and her whole being thrilled with 
eager anticipation. Now she was horribly depressed — 
filled with a leaden throbbing ache. More than ever 
she had dreaded anything in her life, she dreaded the 
impending meeting. Yet it must be faced, with a soul- 
masking smile of welcome, if she could summon one to 
her lips. For a week the girl had been performing her 
usual tasks in a mechanical way, and with few outward 
signs of the inward struggle which she was going 
through, and which had terminated in a spiritually 
dazed condition. 

Virgil had no idea that anything was wrong, and her 
mother, vaguely realizing that something was the mat¬ 
ter, had not been able to offer any refuge or consola¬ 
tion. For all their filial and maternal love, there was 
no real bond of sympathetic understanding between 
them. To only one person had she been able to turn 
for unspoken sympathy and encouragement. “ Smiles ” 
344 


THE HOME-COMING 


345 


was with them again, for a brief time, and, although 
the older, wiser woman did not try to discover Omie’s 
secret, she suspected the truth and did her utmost to 
lighten the burden on her heart. Between these two 
the spiritual bond was very strong, for Rose McDonald 
had been the mold in which the girl’s later life had 
been poured; she, more than any one else, had helped 
to fashion it while the material was unset and pliable. 
The copy was not, and never could be, the same as the 
original, for Omie lacked some of the qualities which 
were native to “ Smiles,” and had a streak of willfulness 
and a deeply hidden element of primitive passion which 
were foreign to her mentor; but the mutual understand¬ 
ing was there. 

Now the hour of Abe’s arrival was drawing near, and 
a new and still more terrifying thought seized upon the 
girl’s mind. What if he should bring Marion Clayton 
with him? It was unbearable. Yet the eventuality 
was by no means inconceivable or even improbable. 
He might both need her with him as his secretary, and 
want her as — Omie’s mind would go no further. Now, 
as had been the case time and time again during that 
week, she was unable to bring herself to accept the 
news which had come to them. Abe’s avowal to her 
that he would never marry had been so definite. And 
now — jt must be a mistake; a lie! Again she felt 
the bitter hope that he would keep his word and never 
wed, rather than marry Marion Clayton. And again, 
as invariably, this feeling was followed by one of hot 
self-condemnation, which hurt worse than the others 
—- a deliberate, yet pitifully futile attempt to be glad 
on his account; rejoice in his happiness. Her heart 
could not obey her will, for Omie was very humanly 
feminine, and her carefully guarded love for the man, 
pure and strong as it was, had its inception in the 



346 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


mating instinct. It lacked the divinely rare element of 
full self-sacrifice. 

Abe might bring the other woman with him, and 
even expect them to take her into their home with the 
customary mountain hospitality, and make her welcome 
until he should be ready to take her into his. Again 
came revolt at her own imaginings. She had not con¬ 
ceived, happily planned and lovingly overseen the con¬ 
struction of that cottage-house — watching it grow 
until it seemed as though something of her very self 
had been building into it — for another to share with 
him. It was his in reality, but theirs in all her 
thoughts — a concrete fact, yet a castle of dreams. 
To her it was an ideal little home, but it would prob¬ 
ably not be good enough for a Congressman’s daugh¬ 
ter and a Congressman’s wife, except, perhaps, as a 
mountain camp; a plaything. Abe would build a big 
house for her at Culverton City, and then Smiling 
Pass would see him no more after this final week 
which was on the point of beginning. 

The March day was as variable as the girl’s thoughts, 
and, in the main, as dismal, although the sun occasion¬ 
ally broke through the hastening, leaden clouds for a 
few minutes at a time. She had her work in the Teach¬ 
ers’ Training Course, which she was just completing, 
and school classes of her own to teach until four 
o’clock; but, when the last one ended and the boys 
rushed wildly away to the baseball field, such as it was, 
she could not drive herself back to the little cluster of 
buildings on the mountain-side, which constituted her 
world. She wanted to walk, walk fast and so perhaps 
find ease for her mind in bodily exercise. 

Without thought, she turned down the road beside 
the swollen creek and, before she realized it, her feet 
had carried her unerringly to the foot of the knoll on 



THE HOME-COMING 


347 


which stood the new cottage, and she was climbing the 
little-used path toward it. When she did awake to her 
surroundings, she stopped in dismay. It would never 
do for Abe — and Marion Clayton — to discover her 
there. She half-turned to retrace her steps in haste, but 
desire conquered. She did so want to stay there a 
moment, even locked on the outside, and the man could 
not possibly ride those twelve miles, after reaching Fay- 
ville on the afternoon train, and get to the pass for at 
least an hour more — unless he urged his mount all the 
way, which, of course, he would not do. 

Omie continued up the path, reached the cottage and 
placed her hand almost lovingly on the doorknob. The 
door swung open at the touch, and she started again 
with redoubled panic. Then she gave a nervous little 
laugh. Probably Camille, always the perfect house¬ 
wife, had been there “ neating it up,” and left the house 
unlocked, so that the returning man might enter it, if 
he wished, without riding up to Smiling Pass for the 
key. 

She stepped hesitatingly inside, and straightway the 
spot laid its spell over her. It was quite dark there, 
for now the clouds overhead had become like thick, 
grayish-brown wool, and little daylight filtered through 
them. There was no rain, but the wind moaned and 
whistled through the trees on the mountain-side, and 
rattled the windows, just as it had that other evening, 
seven months ago, when she had stood on the same 
spot, pressed close to Abe’s protecting body. A mem¬ 
ory wave, so strong that it fairly overwhelmed her, set 
her heart to pulsating madly and the hot blood surged 
through her veins. She must’flee at once; if the man 
should arrive ahead of time and discover her there it 
would be unendurable. Yet she stayed, leaning, weak 
and trembling, against the wall. 




348 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Into her confused thoughts and emotions broke a 
clear call from only a short distance down the creek 
road — Abe’s own voice raised in a happy halloo, ad¬ 
dressed rather to his home than any person. The 
sound of it galvanized her into terrified action. She 
must get out and make her escape, unseen, reaching 
her house across the wooded spur of the mountain. 
Omie ran to the door, and stopped. It was too late. 
The man had already turned his horse from the road¬ 
way and was heading straight for the knoll. Unlike 
practically all of its neighbors, the cottage boasted a 
kitchen and back door and the girl sped to it, only to 
find it locked. The key was probably laid somewhere 
in the room, but it was too dark there to find it quickly. 
She was fairly trapped, unless she could succeed in slip¬ 
ping out of the front door and around the corner of the 
house, unobserved. She ran back, just in time to see 
Abe, who had already dismounted, toss the reins over a 
convenient branch and start up the path, climbing 
rapidly. 

Suddenly another memory picture rose vividly before 
her mind’s eye. Her dream! In part, at least, it had 
been translated into reality. She stood in the doorway 
of his new home, and the man was climbing towards 
her. He looked wan and weary in the half-light; but 
distinguished appearing, for he had only added a pair 
of leather putties to his city-made black suit, and wore 
a really stylish gray felt hat, which Marion had se¬ 
lected for him with judicious taste. Even in her great 
perturbation, Omie noted these details. The recollec¬ 
tion of the dream was so powerful that she simply 
could not help turning her gaze from side to side in 
search of a skulking, menacing form. And then — 
she saw it! 

Slipping from one dim bush to another, with a rifle 



THE HOME-COMING 


349 


held at his hip, was Noah Fugate; now she had no dif¬ 
ficulty in recognizing him at once. And she knew why 
he was there. It had not been difficult for him to learn 
when his cousin was coming back from Washington, 
and his half-crazed brain was obsessed with but one 
idea — to take full vengeance upon the man whom he 
hated for a three-fold reason. 

Omie’s heart seemed to leap up into her throat and 
choke her. She wanted to scream a warning, but in¬ 
stinct caused her to stifle the cry on her lips. Now it 
would only be a signal for the fatal shot. With speed 
of thought and action greater than she had ever ex¬ 
perienced, and with her whole being centered on but one 
object, to protect Abe Blount from the impending dan¬ 
ger, she slipped soundlessly out of the door, a moving 
shadow merging with the shadows of the out-of-doors. 
Noah, his regard feverishly fixed on Abe, did not see 
her at all, until, with arms protectingly stretched out, 
she leaped downward towards the advancing man, who 
caught sight of her at the same instant, and instinc¬ 
tively reached out his arms to meet her coming. Simul¬ 
taneously there came an oath from the bushes, a sharp 
flash and the crack of a hunting rifle. 

Abe started and threw up his head, even as his arms 
closed about the girl. 

“ Noey! ” he shouted. “ If I catch you naow, I’ll — 
My God! ” 

Omie had slipped from his partial embrace, and, 
with her arms still encircling his body, had sunk to the 
ground at his feet. 

“ Omie! He — he didn’t hit you! ” 

Abe bent and lifted her with anguished tenderness. 

“Yes — I reckon — so, Abe,” answered the girl, 
trying to smile before she fainted. 



350 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


Dr. McDonald came out of the little hospital, still 
clad in his white uniform of service, and found the 
Congressman pacing back and forth on the veranda in 
the darkness. Instinctively he reached out his hand 
and his hearty clasp carried encouragement. 

“Then she’ll — live? ” asked the other, hoarsely. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Thank God. Thank God for that. Is it bad? ” 

“ Bad, but not fatal. We’ve got the bullet out of 
her side — it went clean through her, but without 
touching a vital organ, fortunately. She’s out of the 
ether now, and wants to see you.” 

“ Is that safe? ” 

“ Yes. For a few minutes. But, for heaven’s sake, 
keep her quiet and don’t let her excite herself. She’s 
pretty weak, and naturally a bit hysterical at present.” 

The Congressman went into the dimly lighted room, 
and Rose McDonald passed him, coming out. She 
caught his hand with a gentle little squeeze, and smiled 
mistily at him. The preceding hour had been one of 
the hardest in her professional life, for she loved the 
stricken girl devotedly. 

On the narrow bed which he had himself occupied, 
two years before, lay the girl, her loosened hair spread 
in a tangle of rich brown, shot through with threads 
of gold, on the pillow, which was scarcely whiter than 
the face which she turned toward him. 

“ Oh, Omie y ” he exclaimed with pent-up emotion as 
he moved forward and dropped to his knees by the 
side of the bed, pressing his heated forehead on its 
edge. 

Her left hand reached weakly out and, just for an in¬ 
stant, touched his hair. Then she surprised him by 
asking, with apparent irrelevance, “ Where — where is 
Miss Clayton? ” 



THE HOME-COMING 


351 


“Marion? Why, daown at Culverton City. What 
made you ask that? ” 

“ I — I thought — that you might bring her hyar, 
since you’re — engaged, and —” 

“ I? Engaged to Marion Clayton? Whatever put 
that absurd idea in your head? ” 

“ Then you’re not — not going tew — marry her? ” 
Her voice was raised with an eagerness which brought 
in its train a little whimper of pain. 

“ Of course not. Why should I marry her — and 
don’t you remember what I told you abaout — ? ” 

“ But — they said that you were. And it was in the 
paper.” 

“ Who said so? What paper? Good Lord! ” 

“ Two girl friends of hers. They rode up hyar abaout 
a week ago to see what aour famous Smiling Pass was 
really like, and I heard one of them tell the other — 
that, when I pointed aout your haouse tew them. And 
it was in the newspaper, too, a Washington one that I 
— that Virgil takes tew find aout what’s going on in 
Congress.” 

“ But there’s not a particle of truth in it. Damn 
gossip, anyway. Why, I never even thought of such a 
a thing. I don’t love her, although I admire her im¬ 
mensely, and goodness knows that she couldn’t love 
me.” 

“ I’m — not so sure of that, Abe,” answered the girl. 

“ Nonsense! Excuse me, but I’m a bit excited, I 
reckon, and I guess I’d better leave before I excite you. 
Dr. McDonald said—” 

“ Don’t go,” cried the girl in a low voice, catching 
his hand. 

“ Besides,” he added, “ Marion has just become en¬ 
gaged to a splendid young army captain who’s been in 
love with her for years; perhaps that’s what her friends 




352 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


meant. I’m going tew lose her in the fall, and I’ll be 
mighty sorry, for she’s been a great friend and helper. 
Naow, please don’t try tew talk any more. You 
shouldn’t — oh, Omie, why did you dew it? ” 

“I — I saw him — Noey — and — I just had tew, 
Abe. I’m so glad that it was me — I mean that it was 
I. Dew you think that I — I saved your life? 
‘ Smiles ’ said I did.” 

“ Yes. Of course you did, dear. But why did you 
dew it? ” he repeated. “ You don’t know haow it 
makes me feel — you hyar, wounded. I would rather 
have been killed than have you hurt, ever so little. 
And tew think of — of this! Are you in much pain? ” 

“ Not — much.” She choked back a sob which was 
more from happiness than agony, and then continued 
very softly, “ Abe, you just called me —‘ dear.’ Did 
you mean it? Dew you care for me — a little? ” 

“ 4 A little’ ? Oh, Omie.” 

“ And it isn’t just because of — what has hap¬ 
pened? ” 

The man’s form stiffened and his big fingers clutched 
the bed clothing in his effort to restrain the words which 
his heart prompted him to utter. 

“ Don’t! Please don’t, Omie.” 

His form of answer seemed to satisfy her, for she 
smiled faintly. Being a woman she read at least part 
of the truth from his tone and expression, and she was 
content for the moment. Happiness struggled with 
weakness. She closed her eyes and remained silent for 
a time, summoning up new strength for the next step. 
At length she spoke again, in a soft, dreamy voice, 
which somehow sounded far away. 

“ A while ago I read a novel of the far Northwest, 
by a writer named Cur wood. He said in it that up 
there they have a sort of unwritten law that if a 



THE HOME-COMING 


353 


woman saves a man’s life she — she owns it — he be¬ 
comes her property. I wish that were true hyar in 
aour maountains, Abe.” 

Despite the turmoil of his emotions and struggle to 
hold them under stern control, he smiled a little at her 
fancy and naive wish, answering more lightly, “ Well, 
I’m a full-fledged legislator, naow, and I reckon that I 
can make such a law, tew fit the case if it’ll please 
you. I’m certainly willing tew be your slave.” 

And by the words he dug a pit for himself, unsus¬ 
pectingly. 

“ Thank you — slave. Then you are mine tew com¬ 
mand? ” 

He nodded. 

“ Then — kiss me, Abe.” 

“ Oh, no. Not that, Omie.” 

“ Yes. I want you tew — that is, if you really care.” 

“You know I do! I’ve cared, more and more, for 
months, although I tried not tew, because — oh, you 
know why. I shouldn’t be telling you this, for it will 
make it harder for us both, if you —” 

She interrupted with a brave, but softly spoken dec¬ 
laration. 

“ I’ve loved you with all my heart, Abe, ever since 
that evening when we were together in your new home 
and the tempest came.” 

“ I didn’t know — I can’t believe it, naow.” 

“ But it’s true. And I’m still waiting for you tew — 
kiss me.” 

“ But don’t you see that I can’t dew that? It’s im¬ 
possible. It wouldn’t be right.” 

“ Please, Abe.” 

With something like a groan he arose, bent over her 
and — holding himself in check with all the power of 
his will — gently touched her lips with his. 



354 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


“ Again, Abe. Put your arms around me as you 
did that other night. It won’t hurt me — just about 
the shoulders — I’m tightly bandaged below.” 

Loath to obey, but fearing to excite her unduly, he 
did as she had bade him. She raised herself a little, 
and encircled his neck with her warm, bare arms, lift¬ 
ing her lips tantalizingly. 

“ Kiss me — as though you really meant it,” she 
whispered, sure of him, now. 

It was more than flesh and blood could endure. 
Every resolve vanished, and, although he succeeded in 
conquering the desire to crush her to him, and held 
her very gently, his kiss was this time all that she 
could have desired — on her part full surrender, on 
his a taking full possession. She relaxed in his 
arms, and settled back with a little sigh, sure of the 
whole truth now, and wholly content for the mo¬ 
ment. She even, without protest, let him loosen 
his embrace, straighten up and turn his back to 
her in the hope of concealing the strength of his 
emotions. 

“ You obey orders very nicely, slave,” she said at 
length. “ But I have another, and remember I am 
She who must be obeyed. Promise that you’ll marry 
me, Abe.” 

“ Oh, why do you want to torture me like this? ” 
he cried, sharply, wheeling about. She saw that his 
homely face was strangely pale, drawn and working. 
“ You know that I can’t dew that — ever.” 

“ You mean that you don’t want tew! You’re a fa¬ 
mous man naow, and I’m only a simple maountain girl, 
withaout much education, and —” 

The note of hysteria in her voice was partly real, 
partly assumed; but it was effective. Before she 
could finish it had brought the man literally to his 



THE HOME-COMING 


355 


knees by the bedside, crying, “ You know that isn’t 
true, Omie. I want you, you, you. I’ve never wanted 
anybody else. And you know the reason why I simply 
can’t marry you — My name —” 

“ Wait, Abe! I want you tew know that the name 
of Blount is all I want tew bear, and I dew want tew 
bear it, if only for a few days. Oh, won’t you promise 
— even when I’m dying , Abe? ” 

The tears welled over in her eyes. 

“ But you’re not going tew die! Haow can you say 
such a thing? Dr. McDonald told me that you would 
get well.” 

“ I’m badly hurt, Abe. I think — I’m quite sure — 
that I can get well, if I have anything I want tew live 
for. But don’t you know that the desire, the will , tew 
live is necessary if —” 

“ O God, what can I say? ” whispered the man, bro¬ 
kenly. 

“ Why, say ‘ yes,’ Abe. Say you promise.” 

He pressed his face against her arm, and answered 
so low that she barely caught the words, “ I can’t. 
But — if you wish it, and insist in spite of what folks 
will say, I — I promise, dear heart.” 

Omie laughed, ever so softly. 

“ It’s pretty hard on a girl when she not only has tew 
ask the man she wants, but has tew ‘ git herself shotted ’ 
in order tew win him. I don’t care, naow, but Abe I — 
I haven’t played just fair. At first I forgot everything 
but you, and then I wanted most of all tew find aout if 
you really did love me. But after that — no, I was 
wicked tew make you promise that you’d marry me in 
spite of everything, because — oh, Abe, my dearest, 
I’m so happy and I’m going tew make you happy, too, 
for I have wonderful news for you; for us both. There 
isn’t any obstacle any more. Please don’t look at me 



356 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


like that! My mind isn’t wandering. It’s the truth 
that is stranger than fiction, as ‘ Smiles ’ said.” 

“ What — what are you saying , Omie? ” The man’s 
expression, barely discernible in the half-light, was one 
of bewilderment, with a suggestion of fear for the girl’s 
reason and the dawning of a great hope. “ You don’t 
— you can’t mean — ? ” 

She nodded weakly, giving him a tender smile. 

“ I dew mean it, dear.” 

He got unsteadily to his feet and caught her pallid 
hand in a grip so hard that a cry of pain was wrung 
from her lips, and he did not even hear it. 

“ But it can’t be true. Why, it’s impossible, after 
all these years. Didn’t I exhaust every possibility, 
myself? I searched the records; I hunted in every 
crack and crevice in aour little cabin on the chance of 
finding— I questioned every preacher in all these 
hills. I—” 

“ Wait, Abe. Please wait! Your maw said that the 
Preacher was a stranger, a ‘ furriner ’— don’t interrupt 
again —” 

Neither had heard the light knock on the door. Now 
it was softly opened and ‘ Smiles ’ stepped into the 
room. Her quick glance took note of the tense situa¬ 
tion, the dangerous flush of excitement on Omie’s pale 
cheeks, and she hurried forward, saying, “ Please go 
now, Abe. I’m afraid we’ve been overdoing.” 

“ But , c Smiles,’ I have just started to tell him abaout 
finding —” 

“ Yes, dear. I understand. But Donald knows the 
story, and it will be better for both of you, if he tells it 
to Abe. You can see him again after a little while if 
you’ll be good, now, and keep very, very quiet.” 

Tears of bitter disappointment sprang into the girl’s 
pain-filled and feverish eyes, but, as the man half-stum- 



THE HOME-COMING 


357 


bled from the room, in obedience to Mrs. McDonald’s 
commanding nod, she dropped her head back on the 
pillow and her eyelids closed. 

“ Yes,” said Donald, in response to Abe’s tense in¬ 
quiry. “ You bet I can tell you how it came about — 
Omie would have written you, if she hadn’t learned 
that you were homeward bound, the day that she be¬ 
came dead sure of her facts. Let me tell you, that 
girl is a wonder. She thinks more of you than all the 
rest of the world put together, herself included, and 
you should bless her to the end of your days, old man.” 

“ I shall, anyway,” responded Abe, huskily. “ But 
— for God’s sake go on, doctor. If you only knew 
what this means tew me! ” 

“ I do. And I can give you an outline of the story 
in a jiffy — it’s like something out of a book. You 
know, of course, that Omie acts as librarian here. 
Moreover, under your influence, she’s become a great 
reader herself. Well, a few weeks ago some one sent 
in a box of discarded books, mostly junk, and among 
them was one with the title ‘ Memoirs of a Mountain 
Missionary.’ She glanced it over, and, finding that it 
dealt with the experiences of a young clergyman from 
the North who had come down to this section about 
forty years ago, fired with zeal to help your people, and 
convert ’em too, read it carefully. Toward the end — 
he’d found it tough going, and been practically ordered 
tew clear out, at the point of a gun — he described 
meeting a young mountaineer by chance, and marrying 
him to a remarkably lovely young girl, almost on the 
spuf of the moment, at a spot with the picturesque 
name of Bear’s Mouth Creek. There was something 
about a family feud in the account, too, and it was 
followed by the description of a terrific cloudburst in 
which he had almost lost his life, for he was riding 



358 THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


over the mountains, trying to make the nearest rail¬ 
way station.” It was so dark on the veranda that Dr. 
McDonald could not see Abe’s face, or become aware 
of the terrible emotion which was shaking him. He 
continued, “ The coincidence was so remarkable that 
Omie felt certain that she had stumbled on the truth 
about your parents, and she wrote to the author, send¬ 
ing the letter in care of the publishers of the book. It 
was some weeks before the answer came — she’d al¬ 
most given up hope — but it was clean cut. He con¬ 
firmed the details of the story as she had set it out in 
her letter, said that he had dug up his old diary and 
verified the names, and stood ready to send on a dupli¬ 
cate certificate — he had given the original to your 
father, it seems, and it was probably buried with him 

— and make a supporting affidavit, if — Good Lord, 
man! Steady. Of course it’s a shock; but get a grip 
on yourself. All right, now? ” 

“ Yes, thank you. But — dew you mind leaving me 
alone hyar for a minute? I want tew — tew think and 

— and pray, I reckon.” 

A half hour later “ Smiles ” McDonald came out onto 
the veranda again and found Abe still standing there, 
his big form half-illuminated by the light which now 
shone through the windows of the House of Happiness. 
Going straight up to him she held out both hands, say¬ 
ing, “I’ve just finished ‘putting to bed’ the future 
Honorable Mrs. Abe Blount — or whatever the proper 
form of address for a Congressman’s wife may be. Per¬ 
haps I should have said ‘ the future Mrs. Abe Perri- 
man,’ however. Oh, I’m so glad for you both.” 

“ No,” he answered slowly, as he took her hands in 
his. “ I think that naow I shall keep my old name — 
have it legalized. I’ve never been ashamed of it.” 



THE HOME-COMING 


359 


“ And it is the one under which you have won your 
silver spurs. But there are still more congratulations 
due you. In this particular case you’re a better doctor 
even than my famous husband, for Omie insists that 
she is going to be well by to-morrow morning, and start 
work on her trousseau in the afternoon. Abe Blount, 
will you kindly lean down three or four feet? I want 
to kiss you.” 


THE END 








POLLYANNA OF THE 

Trade Mark 

ORANGE BLOSSOMS 

$y Harriet Lummis Smith 


THE THIRD GLAD BOOK, continuing the story of 
Trade Mark 

POLLYANNA: THE GLAD BOOK and POLLYANNA 
Trade Mark Trade Mark Trade Matfk 

GROWS UP: THE SECOND GLAD BOOK, by the 
late Eleanor H. Porter. Trade Mark 



Cloth, i2tno, with six illustrations in black and white 
and a poster jacket, $2.00 

The publishers felt that the lamented death of Eleanor 
H. Porter, creator of POLLYANNA, should not deprive 
the public of the eagerly awaited continuation of the story 
of POLLYANNA and the glad game. They believe that 
in this “labor of love” Harriet Lummis Smith, herself a 
well-known author (her FRIENDLY TERRACE books 
have sold through twelve printings) has carried on with 
unqualified success and that this new GLAD BOOK will 
be as eagerly read and as widely circulated as were 
POLLYANNA and POLLYANNA GROWS UP. 

Trade Mark Trade Mark 

In POLLYANNA OF THE ORANGE BLOSSOMS, 

Trade Mark 

the glad girl appears again, just as sweet and joyous- 
hearted, but more entrancing as Jimmy's bride — the glad 
sort of a little bride you would expect her to be. It would 
be impossible for her not to play the glad game, for it is a 
part of her very being and its optimistic philosophy ema¬ 
nates from her—but not with the same childish exuberance 
as when POLLYANNA first started eyeryone on the merry 
round of being glad. She has acquired all the sweet dignity 
and graciousness of maturity. 
















PENELOPE AND TH1 
GOLDEN ORCHARD 



Jfljg A sequel to PENELOPE’S PROBLEMS 

B\> Dorothea Castelhun 

Cloth decorative, i2mo, illustrated, $i.qo 

Dorothea Castelhun’s first book, PEN] 
PROBLEMS, was hailed as a worthy successor to 
ANNA and, strangely enough, like our famoii 
BOOK was published prior to bookTssue as a ser 
Christian Herald. 

There is a freshness and sweetness about Mis 
hun’s work and this second story about PENELC 
we predict, rival the first in popularity. It is a 
NELOPE’S winter in Megamoc, after the Forre 
Dexter Alan have gone away to New York, 
naturally expected to have a pretty dull time, 
makes some new friends unexpectedly — a fami! 
name of Graham, who are as poor as the Forres 
rich. The story has to do with the mystery c 
with Larry, one of the Graham boys, and ends wi 
Christmas celebration when the mystery is solve< 
fortunes of the Grahams turn. There is a promisi 
more happy times in the house in the Golden Or< 

“For all readers whose hearts are young. A 1 
glories in sunshine, a book to chase away the clc 
appeal is instantaneous! Spontaneous youth ai 
in an unusual setting, a plot that is a real and lr 
presented with a graceful felicity of style that i 
this book by Miss Castelhun immediate recc 



Portsmouth Herald. 









THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS 


A sequel to SMILES: A ROSE OF THE 
CUMBERLANDS and SMILING PASS 

<2Jl/ Eliot Harlow Robinson 

Author of “Mark Gray’s Heritage ” etc. 

Cloth, i2mo, illustrated, $2.00 

In SMILES and SMILING PASS Mr. Robinson 
gave us novels tingling with the appealing, vivid life of the 
Cumberland mountaineer — a people the author knows 
well and depicts with keen sympathy and rare fidelity. 

THE MAN FROM SMILING PASS, the author’s 
third Cumberland novel, relates the story of a strong 
man of humble mountain origin, who, after achieving 
education and worldly success, returns to his people to 
establish law and order. The way in which Blount’s 
patriotic ideals and respect for law clash with the 
designs of scheming politicians and lawless mountaineers, 
weaves the fabric of an intensely dramatic story. 

There is romance, and the mountain girl, of course, 
making a virile, stirring novel of blended romance and 
politics which surpasses anything of this nature since 
the days of CONISTON and THE HON. PETER 
STERLING. 

This is easily the best thing that Mr. Robinson has 
yet done. Those familiar with his previous novels can 
best judge the measure of this praise. 








t By G- E- Locke 

Author of “The Scarlet Macaw” etc. 

Cloth decorative , i2mo, illustrated , $1.90 

A detective romance which will delight the jaded 
reader, satiated with the ordinary type of mystery story, 
with its journalistic style and stereotype plot. THE 
PURPLE MIST describes a murder, sensational and puz¬ 
zling enough to challenge the most hardened student of 
detective story technique. The murder, however, is only 
one of the many intriguing problems confronting the reader. 
What is the mysterious purple mist which rises at twilight 
and floats over the lonely moors about Craghaven Castle? 
What is the mission of the Phantom Coach which crosses 
the moor at midnight, and what becomes of those who 
cross its path and vanish forever? What strange secret 
lies in the neurotic Major Audley’s past? What is hidden 
behind the baffling, inscrutable exterior of the mysterious 
Dr. Blakesley? These are only a part of the many problems 
which hold the absorbed reader to the last page. 

The romantic setting and Oriental mysticism which made 
the author’s THE RED CAVALIERfsuch a pronounced 
success, are here combined with a plot even more ingenious 
than that of THE SCARLET MACAW, which W. Orton 
Tewson of the Public Ledger (Philadelphia) called “the 
best mystery story of the year.” The result will certainly 
satisfy the most blase lover of detective and mystery fiction, 
seeking a new thrill. 









THE RED PIROGUE 


By *» 

Captain Theodore Goodridge Roberts 

Author of “Tom Akerley,” “The Fighting Starkleys ,” etc. 
Illustrated , cloth , i2tno, $1.75 


The admirers of Captain Roberts’ books, and they are 
many, will find much to delight them in this story of thrills, 
adventure and the exhilaration of outdoor life in settlement 
and wilderness of the Canadian wilds. It is good to read 
of these sturdy, Northwoods folks — Ben O’Dell, Uncle 
Jim McAllister, plucky Mrs. O’Dell and the others, by no 
means forgetting Sherwood’s little daughter, Marion — lit¬ 
tle, but oh my! 

As always, Captain Roberts has written a clean, virile 
tale of his own Canadian Northlands. He knows his set¬ 
ting; he knows his people and he tells his latest tale in 
masterful manner. It is full of “pep," a riot of action, and 
will appeal to young and old. 

“ Captain Roberts’ stirring tales of the Canadian woods, 
the mystery, charm and folklore of the silent, dark places, 
are well known. Few authors combine his first-hand, life¬ 
long knowledge of his material, and the strength and 
sympathy of his presentation." — St. Louis Globe Democrat 










REDBURN: HIS FIRST VOYAGE 


Being the Sailor Boy Confessions and 
Reminiscences of the Son-of-a-Gentleman 
in the Merchant Service 

By Herman Melville 

Author of “Moby Dick, 7 ’ “ Mardi ,” etc. 

Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill, cloth, i 2 mo, $2.00 

It was in 1837 that Melville, driven by the most urgent 
necessity, found himself face to face with the problem of 
making his own way in the world. In a mental attitude 
close to desperation, the eighteen-year-old youth cut him¬ 
self away from family ties and, following the age-old fal¬ 
lacy that happiness and prosperity are waiting just over 
the horizon, secured a berth as ship's boy in the forecastle 
of a Liverpool-bound packet. 

To learn of the author’s hazardous life at sea on the 
east-bound voyage, of his many experiences while the ship 
was in dock at Liverpool, and of his adventurous career, 
when, at the end of four months, the ship finally docked 
again in New York, the reader need only have recourse to 
REDBURN. Never was there a book which so truthfully 
and faithfully portrays the reactions of a youth to life at 
sea. Never was there a book which so vividly describes 
conditions in Liverpool nearly a century ago. REDBURN 
is more than a sea story. It is a moral lesson and because 
of its great autobiographical significance and the fact that 
it marks one of the milestones along the path of our literary 
development, REDBURN must be reckoned among the 
foremost stories of the sea. Melville’s six famous sea 
stories are now available in a uniform set, attractively 
boxed. The titles are as follows: MOBY DICK, OMOO, 
TYPEE, WHITE JACKET, MARDI, REDBURN. 









C9»^C0X85C8»^C9X@5C8X83C8^C8Xe3C8^ce^iK^ 

PAGE’S LIBRARY OF FAMOUS 
SEA STORIES 

10 Titles as follows: 

BAHAMA BILL 
THE BLACK BARQUE 
THE VOYAGE OF THE ARROW 
THE WINDJAMMERS 
By Captain T. Jenkins Hains 

Four adventurous tales of the sea — absorbing, romantic, 
perilous! Told by Captain T. Jenkins Hains, “the master 
of the straight sea story.’’ 

THE MATE OF THE GOOD SHIP YORK 
THE CAPTAIN’S WIFE 

By W. Clark Resell 

Romantic adventures, hairbreadth escapes, astounding 
achievements, and the smack of the brine! 

PRISONERS OF FORTUNE 

By Ruel Perley Smith 

A powerful tale of the Massachusetts Bay Colony when 
pirates infested the Atlantic shores from New England to 
the Gulf. 

THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP 

By Jacob Fisher 

Which deals with strong characters and circumstances 
where customs count for nothing — in the South Seas. 

FOUL PLAY 

By Charles Reade 

A tale of the ever popular and interesting shipwreck and 
castaway life on a desert island. 

EDWARD BARRY 

By Louis Becke 

q A story of South Sea life, pearl diving and adventure in 
g the Lagoon Islands. 

Each, cloth, i2mo, illustrated, $1.75; the 10 volumes, uniform § 
g binding, handsomely boxed as a set, $17.50 o 



Selections from 

L. C. Page & Company’s 
List of Fiction 


WORKS OF 

ELEANOR H. PORTER 

POLLY ANNA: The GLAD Book (510,000) 

Trade Mark Trade Mark 

Cloth decorative, 12 mo, illustrated, $ 1.90 

Mr. Leigh Mitchell Hodges, The Optimist, in an editorial for 
the Philadelphia North American, says: “And when, after 
Polly anna has gone away, you get her letter saying she is 
going to take * eight steps ’ tomorrow — well, I don’t know just 
what you may do, but I know of one person who buried his 
face in his hands and shook with the gladdest sort of sadness 
and got down on his knees and thanked the Giver of all 
gladness for Pollyanna.” 

POLLYANNA: The GLAD Book. Mart Pickford Edition 

Trade Mark Trade"" Mark 

Illustrated with thirty-two half-tone reproductions of scenes 
from the motion picture production, and a jacket with a por¬ 
trait of Mary Pickford in color. 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, $ 2.25 

While preparing “ Pollyanna ” for the screen. Miss Pickford 
said enthusiastically that it was the best picture she had ever 
made in her life, and the success of the picture on the screen 
has amply justified her statement. Mary Pickford’s interpre¬ 
tation of the beloved little heroine as shown in the illustrations, 
adds immeasurably to the intrinsic charm of this popular story. 

POLLYANNA GROWS UP: The Second GLAD Book 

Trade Mark ( 253 , 000 ) Trade Mark 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $ 1.90 

When the story of Pollyanna told in The Glad Book was 
ended, a great cry of regret for the vanishing “ Glad Girl ” 
went up all over the country — and other countries, too. Now 
Pollyanna appears again, just as sweet and joyous-hearted, 
more grown up and more lovable. 

“ Take away frowns! Put down the worries! Stop fidgeting 
and disagreeing and grumbling! Cheer up, everybody! Polly- 
*nna has come back!”— Christian Herald. 







2 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 




WORKS OF ELEANOR H. PORTER (Continued) 

MISS BILLY (93rd thousand) 

Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a 
painting by G. Tyng, $1.90 

“ There is something altogether fascinating about * Miss 
Billy,’ some inexplicable feminine characteristic that seems to 
demand the individual attention of the reader from the moment 
we open the book until we reluctantly turn the last page.” — 
Boston Transcript. 

MISS BILLY’S DECISION (78th thousand) 

Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a 
painting by Henry W. Moore, $1.90 

“ The story is written in bright, clever style and has plenty 

of action and humor. Miss Billy is nice to know and so are 

her friends.” — New Haven Leader. 

MISS BILLY—-MARRIED (86th thousand) 

Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a 
painting by W. Haskell Coffin, $1.90 

“ Although Pollyanna is the only copyrighted glad girl. Miss 
Billy is just as glad as the younger figure and radiates just 
as much gladness. She disseminates joy so naturally that we 
wonder why all girls are not like her.” — Boston Transcript. 

SIX STAR RANCH (95th thousand) 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated by R. Farrington Elwell, 

$1.90 

“ ‘ Six Star Ranch ’ bears all the charm of the author’s genius 
and is about a little girl down in Texas who practices the 
‘ Pollyanna Philosophy ’ with irresistible success. The book is 
one of the kindliest things, if not the best, that the author of 
the Pollyanna books has done. It is a welcome addition to the 
fast-growing family of Glad Books.” — Howard Russell Bangs 
in the Boston Post. 

CROSS CURRENTS 

Cloth decorative, illustrated, $1.50 

“ To one who enj oys a story of life as it is to-day, with its 
sorrows as well as its triumphs, this volume is sure to appeal.” 
— Book News Monthly. 

THE TURN OF THE TIDE 

Cloth decorative, illustrated, $1.50 

“ A very beautiful book showing the influence that went to 
the development of the life of a dear little girl into a true and 
good woman.” — Herald and Presbyter, Cincinnati, Ohio. 



LIST OF FICTION 


3 


NOVELS BY 

ELIOT HARLOW ROBINSON 

Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90 
A hook which has established its author in the front rank of 
American novelists. 

SMILES, A ROSE OF THE CUMBERLANDS (29th 
thousand) 

E. J. Anderson, former managing Editor of the Boston 
Advertiser and Record, is enthusiastic over the story and says: 

“ I have read ‘ Smiles ’ in one reading. After starting it I 
could not put it down. Never in my life have I read a book 
like this that thrilled me half as much, and never have I seen 
a more masterful piece of writing.” 

SMILING PASS: A Sequel to “ SMILES,” A Rose of 
the Cumberlands 

“Applied sociology, mixed with romance and adventure that rise 
to real dramatic intensity. But the mixture is surprisingly successful. 
The picture impresses one as being faithfully drawn from the living 
models with sympathetic understanding. The book is effective.” 

— New York Evening Post. 

MARK GRAY’S HERITAGE: A Romance 

“One of the sweetest romances of the year.” — Montreal Family 
Herald and Weekly. 

“It is a splendid, courageous, uplifting story with lots of entertain¬ 
ment, lots of action and a love story that is entrancing.” — Fresno 
Herald. 

THE MAID OF MIRABELLE: A Romance of Lorraine 

“The spirit of all the book is the bubbling, the irrepressibly indom¬ 
itable, cheerful faith of the people, at their very best, against the 
grave Quakerism from the United States standing out grimly but 
faithfully. The tale is simply, but strongly told.” — Montreal Family 
Herald and Weekly Star. 

MAN PROPOSES; Or, The Romance of John Alden 
Shaw 

“Distinguished by a fine sentiment of loyalty to an ideal, by physi¬ 
cal courage, indomitable resolution to carry to success an altruistic 
undertaking, a splendid woman’s devotion, and by a vein of spon¬ 
taneous, sparkling humor that offsets its more serious phases. 

— Springfield Republican. 



4 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


THE ROMANCES OF 

L. M. MONTGOMERY 

Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, $1.90 

ANNE OF GREEN GABLES (364th thousand) 

Illustrated by M. A. and W. A. j. Claus. 

“ In ‘ Anne of Green Gables ’ you will find the dearest and 
most moving and delightful child since the immortal Alice.” — 
Mark Twain in a letter to Francis Wilson. 

“ I take it as a great test of the worth of the book that while 
the young people are rummaging all over the house looking for 
Anne, the head of the family has carried her off to read on his 
way to town.” — Bliss Carman. 

ANNE OF AYONLEA (259th thousand) 

Illustrated by George Gibbs. 

“ Here we have a book as human as 4 David Hamm,’ a 
heroine who outcharms a dozen princesses of fiction, and re¬ 
minds you of some sweet girl you know, or knew back in the 
days when the world was young.” — San Francisco Bulletin. 

CHRONICLES OF AVONLEA (45th thousand) 

Illustrated by George Gibbs. 

“ The author shows a wonderful knowledge of humanity, 
great insight and warmheartedness in the manner in which 
some of the scenes are treated, and the sympathetic way the 
gentle peculiarities of the characters are brought out.” — 
Baltimore Sun. 

ANNE OF THE ISLAND (68th thousand) 

Illustrated by H. Weston Taylor. 

“ It has been well worth while to watch the growing up of 
Anne, and the privilege of being on intimate terms with her 
throughout the process has been properly valued. The once 
little girl of Green Gables should have a permanent fictional 
place of high yet tender esteem.” — New York Herald. 

FURTHER CHRONICLES OF AVONLEA (20th thou¬ 
sand). Illustrated by John Goss. 

Nathan Haskell Dole compares Avonlea to Longfellow’s 
Grand Pre — and says, “ There is something in these continued 
chronicles of Avonlea like' the delicate art which has made 
Cranford a classic.” 

“ The reader has dipped into but one or two stories when he 
realizes that the author is the most natural story teller of the 
day.” — Salt Lake City Citizen. 



LIST OF FICTION 


5 


WORKS OF L. M. MONTGOMERY (Confirmed) 

ANNE OF GREEN GABLES: The Mary Miles Minter 
Edition 

Illustrated with twenty-four half-tone reproductions of 
scenes from the motion picture production, and a jacket in 
colors with Miss Minter’s portrait. 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, $2.25 

“You pass from tears to laughter as the story unfolds, and 
there is never a moment’s hesitation in admitting that Anne 
has completely won your heart.” — Joe Mitchell Chappie, 
Editor, The National Magazine. 

“ Mary Miles Minter’s ‘ Anne ’ on the screen is worthy of 
Mark Twain’s definition of her as the ‘ dearest and most moving 
and delightful child since the immortal “ Alice.” ’ ” — Cam¬ 
bridge Tribune. 

KILMENY OF THE ORCHARD (52d thousand) 

Illustrated by George Gibbs. Cloth decorative, 12mo, $1.90 
“ A purely idyllic love story full of tender sentiment, red¬ 
olent with the perfume of rose leaves and breathing of apple 
blossoms and the sweet clover of twilight meadow-lands.” — 
San Francisco Bulletin. 

“ A story born in the heart of Arcadia and brimful of the 
sweet and simple life of the primitive environment.”— Boston 
Herald. 

THE STORY GIRL (46th thousand) 

Illustrated by George Gibbs. Cloth decorative, 12mo, $1.90 
“ It will be read and, we venture to predict, reread many 
times, for there is a freshness and sweetness about it which will 
help to lift the load of care, to cheer the weary and to make 
brighter still the life of the carefree and the happy.” — 
Toronto, Can., Globe. 

‘“The Story Girl’ is of decidedly unusual conception and 
interest, and will rival the author’s earlier books in popularity.” 
—. Chicago Western Trade Journal. 

THE GOLDEN ROAD (28th thousand) 

Illustrated by George Gibbs. Cloth decorative, 12mo, $1.90 
In which it is proven that “ Life was a rose-lipped comrade 
with purple flowers dripping from her fingers.” 

“It is a simple, tender tale, touched to higher notes, now 
and then, by delicate hints of romance, tragedy and pathos. 
Any true-hearted human being might read this book with en¬ 
joyment, no matter what his or her age, social status, or 
economic place.” — Chicago Record-Herald. 



6 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


NOVELS BY 

ISLA MAY MULLINS 

Each one volume, cloth decorative, illustrated, $1.75 

UNCLE MARY: A Novel for Young or Old 

Since the great success of “ Pollyanna ” there have been 
many efforts to achieve the “ Glad Book ” style of fiction, but 
none so successful as Mrs. Mullins’ “ Uncle Mary.” 

“ It is a charming study of the influence of love and af¬ 
fection, and the interest in it is sustained by the unravelling 
of the mystery of the child’s origin and the development of a 
real romance.” — Montreal Herald . 

TWEEDIE: The Story of a True Heart 

“ The story itself is full of charm and one enters right into 
the very life of Tweedie and feels as if they had indeed been 
lifted into an atmosphere of unselfishness, enthusiasm and 
buoyant optimism.”— Boston Ideas. 

“ Isla May Mullins, the author of this tale, writes about 
‘ the sunny South,’ and her books have a Southern warmth 
and tenderness which makes them perfectly delightful.”— 
Rochester Post Express. 

THE BLOSSOM SHOP BOOKS 

THE BLOSSOM SHOP: A story of the South 

“ Frankly and wholly romance is this book, and lovable — 
as is a fairy tale properly told.” — Chicago Inter-Ocean. 

ANNE OF THE BLOSSOM SHOP 

“ A rare and gracious picture of the unfolding of life for 
the young girl, told with a delicate sympathy and under¬ 
standing that must touch alike the hearts of young and old.” 
— Louisville ( Ky .) Times. 

ANNE’S WEDDING 

“The story is most beautifully told. It brings in most 
charming people, and presents a picture of home life that is 
most appealing in love and affection. It is a delightful tale, 
highly refreshing and most entertaining.” — Every Evening t 
Wilmington, Del. 

THE MT. BLOSSOM GIRLS 

“ In the writing of the book the author is at her best as a 
story teller. The humor that ripples here and there, the 
dramatic scenes that stir, and the golden thread of romance 
that runs through it all, go to make a marked success. It is 
a fitting climax to the series.” 



LIST OF FICTION 


7 


DETECTIVE STORIES BY 


G. E. LOCKE 


Each one volume, cloth decorative, illustrated, $1.90 


THE SCARLET MACAW 

“‘Here is a mystery story that is a mystery,’ declared one young 
man who read it. He found it to be not only a mystery too deep for 
him to solve as he read it, but a story so entertaining and gripping that 
he dropped all other matters in hand until he had finished the last 
chapter and ascertained ‘how it came out.’” — Denver Times. 


THE RED CAVALIER, or The Twin Turrets Mystery 

Here is a mystery story that is different! The subtlety and strange¬ 
ness of India — poison and daggers, the impassive faces and fierce 
hearts of Prince Bardai and his priestly adviser; a typical English 
week-end house party in the mystery-haunted castle. Twin Turrets, 
in Yorkshire; here is a vivid and contrasting background. 

And the plot! Who is the mysterious Red Cavalier? 

“Altogether this is the most mysterious of all the mystery stories 
we have read lately.” — Boston Traveler . 

“Time after time one thinks the mystery of Twin Towers has been 
solved, only to find the ‘Red Cavalier’ off on a new adventure leading 
one far afield from the supposed solution.” — Lexington Herald. 


NOVELS BY 

DAISY RHODES CAMPBELL 

THE FIDDLING GIRL 

Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.65 

“A thoroughly enjoyable tale, written in a delightful vein of 
sympathetic comprehension.” — Boston Herald. 

THE PROVING OF VIRGINIA 

Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.65 

“ A book which contributes so much of freshness, enthusiasm, 
and healthy life to offset the usual offerings of modern fiction, 
deserves all the praise which can be showered upon it.” — 
Kindergarten Review. 

THE VIOLIN LADY 

Cloth decorative, illustrated # . $1.65 

“ The author’s style remains simple and direct, as in her pre¬ 
ceding books.” — Boston Transcript. 



8 


TEE PAGE COMPANY’S 


NOVELS BY 

MARGARET R. PIPER 

PETER’S BEST SELLER 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $2.00 

A fascinatingly different and altogether delightful novel of the 
present day — for grown-ups, young and old. It has all the sparkle 
and vivacity of youth touched to higher notes, now and then, by 
delicate hints of romance and pathos. 

“Miss Piper has added another successful love story to her quota of 
healthy books about adventuresome youth. She interests us from 
the start.” — Boston Transcript. 

“This is a jolly book; one which gives you a good taste in your 
mouth while you are reading it and which — oh joy! — leaves a good 
taste when you have read the final page.” — Chattanooga News. 

WILD WINGS 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.90 

“The story is particularly effective in its portrayal of the difficulties 
that beset the path of youth, beating with ‘wild wings’ against the 
bars of convention and tradition.” — Buffalo Commercial. 

THE SYLVIA ARDEN BOOKS 

SYLVIA’S EXPERIMENT: The Cheerful Book 

Trade Mark 

Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color, $1.75 
“ An atmosphere of good spirits pervades the book; the 
humor that now and then flashes across the page is entirely 
natural.” — Boston Post. 

SYLVIA OF THE HILL TOP: The Second Cheerful 

Book Trade Mark 

Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color, $1.75 
“There is a world of human nature and neighborhood con¬ 
tentment and quaint quiet humor in Margaret R. Piper’s sec¬ 
ond book of good cheer.” — Philadelphia North American. 

SYLVIA ARDEN DECIDES: The Third Cheerful 

Book Trade Mark 

Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color, $1.75 
“Its ease of style, its rapidity, its interest from page to 
page, are admirable; and it shows that inimitable power — the 
story-teller’s gift of verisimilitude. Its clearness is excellent, 
and its portraiture clear and pleasing.”— The Reader. 


































* 3 N 0 ’ ^ •’dll’*' A 0 ,,, *V •)«•• CR , 

* % v Vr*'. ^ v ***•> "i 


cf> 


V 


oV ^ 


^0 



rO v C 


0 ^ c 


> 

A 



’\ v 
c5> ^ 



, ,v> ^ - a.... 

g£* * <s e> -i -oV 

.< s s 7* y o * x * aG <* y / , ' s ’ a 

"’-% °° c<y * * '>® 

<&' '£m%> * ». « > ^ J 



’*■* $■%. >- 
^ * 0 M 0 5 ' *#' ^ * 

*t o x> *. s * ° 

'p 


ft >*<* ^W/A^ %* 4 

^ ■ ^%J°k 

■ ■ °- 


</> \ 

? • c>^ 

■* c ^ v 

.0^ t 0 N ° * ' * * S ’ ^> V *V 1 8 * ^ ' ° * * 

0 . *\r^> * A y *1 r.0 v C 


% ^ 

r 

Ar f 


•y 

c 0 N c « 

< * f 

^<P 


Afb 




V °o. ^ A v ^ yWs M j o _ _ 

\ * < 0 £> 1 

- 4 ^'^'A 

%/ *Jjfe* < 

*%*% ^iSIS^r ^ V< v ’ww* I 

% V°*'-\ 0 >"\..v„ 4 " 

- .4 ^ ,' Treatm^nl Date^ l *^^ , ^ > ^^^^^ 0SS 

rtJiWl JAN 


\> 



1397 

fiiRKEEPER 


PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES, INC. 
l.^ Ill Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Twp., PA 16066 
(412)779-2111 









N - O 




1 A 


< VJ 



,/h o 
y/Z) . 

A 

^ - 

L >* ?- 
Z ^ 
r ■' 

* 

\ A 

A V 

Z » 

■v 


sS a\ 



V, 

‘i? K Vj z*. 

y 0 , V * <U 

^ o 0 ’ *" 0 


. ^ / C S <\ 

■* * A ^ x \ 1 l « _ 

4 

^ *p i a . V 



O, * o * k 


: ^ 


Q~ y a a- <^v ^ ' >> (A 

O >/ . 0 Ox' V j> H V 

•V>-V 0 H ° v x tf ’ ,9*. 




CO 


•A % •„ Wv • * 

^ tfj L ^ ^ .v 


^ " ■/ o * V * .0 

~*b. S C» N ° * 


t*.«> ^> * * 1 1 o'- 

.*. A’ ' ' 


® 

** * 


* v ^ 

a o -A \9 

o o v ~® ^ * s ’ \ v ,i« 

r CT c oM « A <A 1 « * 

^ < .' -^vSTSL' ~'-f, S „ 

*o o' 1 «a^ia« A v * : 

v 0 O ■ -' ^^ V 0 

t?7M# ? , * " <* 

C> y <■ * - & L v p.’ 

^ ^ * Q *>. * 9 « ' * <i° s * * 

O \> «- * 0 r s X 0 V * s 

<P^ aA~ * 4 i * <\> Or 'll ° '-£>. 

AA <9> <». 

,, „ ,.V«/> 2 

* ^ 

G* .. <r. .s' . .. <ip 




; ,\°. %4 , 

f - ■’ 




0 


-/ 

» 

V 

o 0 X 

c 

sJ 

o 

K 

a a 

>“ 

C 



° $ ,T 'P- ° % « 

* <) 

0 /> 


'V' V. 

.<^ v 


0 / " 1 ' cf ^ 

» -^v^„ % / / “ 

z ; ■ z 






0 > v. ^ ^ O ^ 

^ , ° N c /, 

0 •^ 5 v_ > .". t ~ 

<S 




+ 

,M U ^ 1 

’• A 

C %" 0N °"\\^ v, 
// O ■ ^ 1 

* A. .# 



\ V cP 

,\V Ai. 3 

X'“-‘V°aa->, 

v ^ jtnA. \ \ t\sA> / 


"O 0^ ; ^ ^ 

-s >- €. 

v. ^ 

c^v ^ \ 

cP*. «y « , -v * ^ „ « 

8 1 (0* s s 9 * f 

^ A 

*p. o 

</ V 







=> o5 ^ 

> N v ^ ^ 

> ^ * -V ( *JT± • ^ 

^^■ 5N °" v x v v 

7* f? S» * . A o- N - 

?> V. rJ\>i,<< /b. ° tpo pA Or 

*^p . AnMA, ° ^ <J S “ 

- A'V » 


s s' A O y o# k ■*■ A 0' 0 n c y / * * s S A 

^ ^ // 2 ^> . ^° \ ^ 
^ r * . ,y o o x r 



<v . v +v:*. 







































